Forgetting
by NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: When Brennan wakes up in her flat, covered in her own blood and with amnesia, it seems Booth is the only one who can help - but will they like what they find? -sounds like an episode, I know, but it isn't- rating may change later on. R&R? please?
1. Sunday Morning

**New Bones story ^_^ Enjoy and please please please please review and eternal love is yours.**

Brennan's head was throbbing, a dull ache behind her eyes that spiked every time she moved. Slowly, she eased her eyes open, wincing as the bright light penetrated the delicate tissue. She sat up, easing herself up and resting on her elbow as she tried to make sense of where she was. There was blood on her hands and liberally splashed over her white dress shirt she'd worn… yesterday? It felt like the time in New Orleans, when Booth had flown all the way from DC to get to her. Booth… she struggled to grab a hold of the shred of memory that was floating in the forefront of her mind. It was difficult, every time she got close to it, it seemed to get further and further away from her. Desperately, she concentrated, trying to remember one thing from whenever the hell it was this happened. With the return of memory came pain, a harsh, racing pain that raced across her ribs, along one arm and her left ankle. Breathing heavily, she turned her right arm and saw a wide, deep laceration running down almost all of her upper arm, still leaking small amounts of blood. She shook her throbbing head and looked around her. She was in her apartment, on the floor next to the counter that held her stereo and CD collection. She raised her left arm and pulled herself up, wincing as pain flared across her ribs again. She gingerly tried to place weight on her ankle and let out a strangled gasp as it shook and collapsed beneath her. She gripped the counter in a vice-like grip and put weight on it again, gritting her teeth against the pain. She could put weight on it, and it didn't seem to be broken, merely sprained. She limped heavily towards her fridge and eased the door open, cradling her bloody arm against her chest. She was still confused and disorientated, she didn't know the date, the time, or even anything from any before the ten minutes she'd been awake. It was like a black hole in her memory, like it had just been cut out of her mind. She rubbed her temples wearily and peered into the freezer compartment, her eyes searching out ice. She gingerly eased a plastic bag from her draw, a freezer bag, and filled it with ice from the ice tray. After closing the bag and the fridge, she limped her way towards the sofa and sat, her leg propped up on a footstool, ice cushioning her sprained ankle. She reached into the pocket of her black slacks and drew out her phone, checking the time and date. The day was Sunday, and she remembered going to Booth's apartment on Friday. She'd lost a whole day again. Slowly, she stood again and made herself some coffee, the process highly painful with her injured arm. She wrapped her trembling hand around the warm mug and took little sips, the warm liquid helping to calm her shattered nerves. Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket and she let out a groan before flipping it open.

'B-Brennan.' Her breath sawed in her chest as she spoke, her ribs aching.

'Bones?' It was Booth.

'Yes?'

'Where are you?'

'At my apartment… where else?'

'I tried to call you yesterday… we need to talk about this.'

'About what?'

'What happened at my place.'

'Booth… what did happen? I don't remember at all… I just…' She started to cry, sobs starting in the centre of her chest and rising up, jerking tears from her eyes.

'You don't remember?'

'N-no… I don't even know what happened to me.'

'What… happened to you?'

'You don't know?'

'No, Bones, what happened to you when you left my place?'

'I don't know!' She replied, suddenly angry. 'I don't know what happened at your place!' And as she said that, she began to remember. 'Wait… I do… oh God Booth what happened?'

'We… we…' His voice broke and she nearly dropped the phone, scared and ashamed at the same time.

'I know… I know… I can remember that… but after that it's just black.'

'Are you okay?' He pressed her, and she verged on shutting him out, not telling him anything – but she relented and let him in.

'No.'

'What happened?'

'I told you I don't remember!'

'Are you hurt?' His voice was gentle and she nearly burst into tears again.

'Y-yes.'

'How bad?'

'Bad.'

'I'll be right there… as soon as I can.' He promised.

'Stay on the phone… please.' She begged, taking another sip from the mug of hot coffee in her hands.

'Okay… do you want me to speak?'

'No… just stay so I can hear you,' She was letting her softer side out, letting her desperate, irrational side be heard by Booth.

**oOo**

Booth knocked on the panelled wood of her front door, not quite knowing what to with his hands. He contented himself with shoving them deep in the pockets of his stonewashed jeans, his fingernails scraping the lint from the bottom of his pocket as he shifted from foot to foot as he waited for her to open the door. It took ten minutes for the door to be opened, and she peered cautiously out first. He held his phone up and clicked the end call button, dropping it back into his pocket. She smiled sadly, her lips hardly rising at all. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, taking in her dishevelled appearance.

'Bones? Are you okay?' He asked her, looking into her face and studying the bruises that were like fireworks over her usually pale skin. 'That was a stupid question… where else does it hurt?' He lifted her face up with a finger and peered intently into her eyes, scanning her facial expression for any sign of change.

'My ankle and my arm.' She replied coolly, shaking her head slowly. Booth had noticed the padding under her jumper along her right arm, but he hadn't wanted to question her about it until now.

'What happened to your arm?'

'I don't remember…'

'And what's wrong with your ankle?'

'Just a sprain… nothing big.'

'Do you remember anything?'

'No… I remember your flat and I remember leaving… and there's something else… I can hardly remember but I went to a bar.'

'Which wasn't clever.'

'And there were people… a lot of people… and then I had a drink… and then nothing. I can't remember anything from then.'

'So what? You think they date raped you or something?'

'I don't know… and I can't tell because of what happened at your place.'

'Bones… I don't know what to say… I'm sorry.' She nodded, tears falling down her face. He went to reach forward for her, but she pushed him away.

'No… if I've been raped I need to go to a hospital.'

'Okay… I know, I just wasn't thinking. But I'll take you, come on.'

**oOo**

Booth helped Brennan limp down the stairs and out of the door of her apartment building, his arm wrapped gingerly around her waist for support. They were half way down when she wrapped her arm around his neck and leaned against him, causing him to stagger and grab the handrail before regaining his balance. She was pale and shaky, her arm tight around his neck as he guided her towards the sunlight outside. When they were outside, the sun warming her cool, clammy skin, she removed her arm from his neck and wrapped it around his waist instead, her grip tightening fractionally every time she put weight on her injured ankle.

'It's okay, just hold one, we're nearly there.' He told her, lifting her up into his arms. She rested her head against his chest and whimpered as his arm touched the wound on her arm she hadn't shown him yet. He placed her on her feet again, favouring her right side so she could get her balance and opened the door of his black SUV, the metal hot even in the weak sunlight of the morning. She climbed into the car, letting out a small whimper of pain as she placed pressure on her sprained ankle. Booth pulled out his phone and dialled a number.

'Hello? Yeah, I'd like to report a possible rape? There's definite evidence of assault on the victim, I'm bringing her to hospital now.' There was a buzzing voice on the other end of the line and Booth smiled. 'Okay, I'll bring her straight there. Thanks.' He folded his phone down again and shot her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand. 'They won't be able to do a full SAE kit, I know, but they'll do their best okay?'

'Okay.' She replied, easing her hand from his grip and placing it back on her lap, intertwining the fingers of each hand and staring at the net they formed. She raised a shaking hand and pushed a lock of hair from out of her eyes, running it through her fingers. The silence was heavy, awkward and confusing. Booth was still trying to work out what had happened the other night, still trying to work out how it had happened and why she'd run out on him. And then gone drinking. Of all things, drinking was the worst.

**oOo**

Brennan was trying to remember anything from the night before, straining her memory in the tedious car journey to the hospital.

_The light wind was ruffling her hair as she left the Jeffersonian, tightening her coat around her, she headed towards her car and paused for a second, digging through her bag for her keys. As she went to step into her car, a hand grabbed her elbow and she reflexively spun around, pushing her assailant to the floor._

'_Oh, it's you. Sorry Booth, you startled me.' She apologized and helped her partner to his feet. _

'_Oh, it's okay. I was actually going to ask, I know you won't want to… but… do you want to go to dinner with me? Tonight?'_

'_Booth… I thought I told you…'_

'_You did. But please? As colleagues, we can discuss a case, forensic anthropology, anything. We don't have to discuss our relationship. Please?'_

'_Booth… I… okay.'_

'_Okay?'_

'_Yeah, don't sound so surprised.'_

'_I'll pick you up at eight then?'_

'_Sure.' She slipped inside her car and started it with a gentle growl and pulled away, heading towards her apartment._

–

_The restaurant was quiet, only a few people in there. The name was something pretty to do with Jasmine, and she was wearing her white dress shirt and black slacks with a loosely cut black jacket. Booth smiled as they ordered, and they discussed everything – the most recent case, Parker, Hodgins and Angela's relationship. But not theirs, it was like a taboo subject that neither felt quite brave enough to broach. When the meal was over, Brennan had pushed back her chair and prepared to get a taxi back to her place, but Booth had placed a hand on her arm._

'_I need a taxi too, I can't drive, want to share?' The warmth in his voice was genuine, and they shared the taxi – which stopped at his place._

'_What?'_

'_Have coffee… then I'll send you back, I promise.' Brennan nodded cautiously, uncertain, but followed him into his home. Once inside, they got talking again, about everything – and then Booth decided to broach the subject they had avoided all evening. 'Brennan… you know how I feel about you.'_

'_I know… but I don't know what to do about… this.' She dropped her gaze to her lap._

'_Bones… I do.' She could remember that, remembered what had happened then, but after that, after running out of his apartment, she remembered nothing at all apart from waking up in her flat, bloodied and bruised with no recollection of what happened._

'Bones? We're nearly there. You okay?'

'What… oh… yeah…'

'You don't look it, but I guess we'll get you checked out then yeah?'

'Y-yeah. Thanks Booth.'

**TBC soon… reviews are appreciated :)**


	2. Sunday Lunchtime

**Eternal love has been earned by my five reviewers ^_^ And the 27 odd emails I received for story alert, author alert, favourite story, favourite author :D But only a few reviews D: out of god knows how many people that faved D: please review and you get a shoutout ^_^ Like these lovely people: DerrBear, celtic-deramscape-94, frankiemakie, tansypool, Alice Haru, Oakland-dreamer and Lisbon94 ^_^ Enjoy this next chapter.**

The hospital was boring – the walls were white, the room she was in was white, her standard issue hospital gown was white and the only thing that wasn't white in the entire room was a table. The table was cream. Brennan shivered and hugged herself, warming her arms slowly. Booth was waiting outside, and she was scared, scared because she couldn't remember anything. Her arm was stinging where they'd taken her blood for testing, and she'd declined an SAE kit – knowing that they'd find something confusing and possibly disastrous for Booth's career, and life as a free man. So now here she was, trembling and nervous in an empty room at the hospital. Her hands were shaking as she laid them flat on her knees and she made no move to try to control it. A door opened on the other side of the white room, a welcome flash of yellow light, and a young nurse walked in, her brown hair tightly twisted in a knot behind her head.

'Miss Brennan?' It was a change to be called miss for once, but she swallowed her retort and nodded. 'There was rohypnol in your system.' She bit down her cry and looked up at the nurse, focussing on the name badge.

'R-really?'

'I'm afraid so, if you'd let us do a full SAE kit…'

'N-no… You wouldn't be able to tell anyway.'

'And how do you know that?'

'Because I had sex before this… so you won't be able to tell, and I don't want one done.' She stammered, forcing the truth out.

'Fair enough.' The young nurse looked puzzled, but handed Brennan some clothes Booth had brought form her apartment. 'Keep your wound clean okay? And look after yourself.'

'O-okay.' She nodded and the nurse left; Brennan watched her go and her head slowly sunk to her hands as she began to feel tears welling up in her eyes. There was a gentle knock on the other door, and she raised her head slightly towards the sound.

'Bones?' It was Booth and she sighed quietly.

'You can come in.' She told him, struggling to pull a soft cotton tee over her head with her injured arm. He sidled inside and walked up to her, resting his hand on her arm.

'How're you feeling?' he was gentle, tender and caring, another thing that moved her to tears.

'How would you be?' She asked him, anger flaring suddenly and irrationally. 'Booth… I'm sorry...' She told him, the anger dissipating within seconds.

'No… Bones, _I'm _sorry. I know why you ran out on me on Friday, and I'm sorry I wasn't more careful with you.' He looked down at his hands, an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck.

'I didn't mean to run out on you… I just panicked I guess…'

'You? Panicked? Two words I thought I'd never hear in the same sentence from you.'

'Well I did okay… I was scared you'd get me pregnant. I'm sorry, if I'd stayed and let my rational brain kick in this wouldn't have happened and you wouldn't be here.'

'Bones, it was my fault. And I don't regret this – you think I'd let you do this by yourself?' He told her firmly. 'Friday was a mistake – a stupid mistake… I should never have taken you to dinner or made you stay at mine. I know one thing led to another, and that you're just as much to blame as I am but the weight of the blame is my fault and I'm sorry. Forgive me?'

'Of course I forgive you… but I need your help to find out what happened to me, I can't do it by myself.'

'I'll help you, it's the least I can do.' She looked at him, seeing him so humble and squashed scared her more than losing an entire day did. He was such a strong person, so fiery and a fighter – and seeing him so cowed and apologetic was nearly terrifying.

'Thank you.'

**oOo**

Booth was in the car, driving as usual, and trying to think about what had happened on Friday night. It was his fault, wholly his fault because he had been the one that wasn't using protection. Why did he let his feeling for her spill over in a most unattractive manner – a one-night stand? Seriously? Oh classy. He cursed himself silently and looked over at her, eyes closed against the world in the passenger seat. She was in pain, he could see that, and she was pressing herself against the window as though she was trying to avoid him. He sighed softly and reverted his attention to the road, trying, and failing, not to look at her. Her head was back against the headrest; her dark hair tangled and knotted, her normally pale skin nearly paper-white with fatigue. There were dark rings beneath her eyes, coloured purple like dark bruises that were horrible blemishes on her usually flawless skin. He softly stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and sighed softly, wanting to enfold her in his arms.

'Booth?'

'Mmm?'

'Where are we going?'

'I was going to ask you the same question.'

'The lab?'

'What would that solve? No – we're going to the bar you went to last night to see if it triggers anything in your lost day.'

'We are?'

'Yeah… do you not want to?'

'Can we go back to my apartment first? I think I need some other clothes if we're going to find the bar and see if I can remember anything.'

'I'm sorry… I just grabbed something from your room…'

'No, it's okay – I just don't feel comfortable in something this revealing right now… I'm sorry.'

'No, I wasn't thinking when I picked this up. It's my fault.'

'Booth… please stop being so humble. It's scaring me.'

'Me apologising is scary?'

'No, you're usually so strong… seeing you so humble like this is scary for me – I'm not used to you being like this.'

'But I'm sorry!'

'Don't be! You love me, I know! You cheated on your girlfriend for me! But I don't want you to think it's your fault because I'm as much to blame as you are. I pushed you away and this happened. It's not all your fault okay?' She peered at him beseechingly and placed her hand on the sleeve of his denim jacket.

'No… but… it's no use arguing with you.' The remark about his girlfriend stung, but he was determined not to show it despite being angry with her for being so cool towards him after all the compassion he'd shown her. 'Anyway, back to yours right?'

**oOo**

Booth strained through his brain for the memory that had been laced with drink, and tried to remember everything from Friday night and possibly Saturday morning.

_He was elated, he'd managed to convince her to have dinner with him, she'd taken some persuading but it would be worth it. His girlfriend was becoming too clingy and possessive, he was thinking about leaving her sometime soon. Dinner with Brennan seemed to be the best way to see how she was feeling about him after his confession. She was right – he was the gambler and she was the scientist, but they say opposites attract right? So he hoped that she'd be coming round to his way of thinking – so she couldn't change, but what was to say he wanted her to? He loved her just the way she was, there was no need for her to change – but he doubted she'd notice or care if he told her. He'd agonised over a restaurant for ages, before settling on Jasmine Spice, an Indian restaurant that sold cheap alcohol and, surprisingly, decent food. The meal was uninteresting, they talked about everything but what he wanted to talk about, their relationship was complicated and he wanted to address the conflicts of interests they were having._

'_I need to… go…' She told him forlornly, sounding as though she wanted to stay for longer; and maybe that was what persuaded him to gather up all his courage and talk to her._

'_Share a taxi?' or something along those lines anyway. Maybe it was her rational mind being clouded by alcohol, or maybe she was jut tired, but she said yes and they flagged one down after paying the bill. She seemed confused when it stopped by his place, but he'd blurted out something about coffee and she, maybe out of sympathy for him, she'd agreed. Once inside his apartment, he'd brought up the subject they'd avoided all night._

'_Bones… about our relationship…'_

'_Our personal or professional?'_

'_Personal, but I guess our professional is affected by this.'_

'_What do you want to talk about?'_

'_Bones, I told you how I feel about you, how do you feel about me?'_

'_I don't know, I don't think I'm coherent enough to care to be honest.'_

'_Fair enough.'_

_And then it was later, and she was running from his placed, hair dishevelled and her jacket clutched tightly around her. Damn it! It was his fault! Again, he'd made the mistake that had pushed her away. But it wasn't really his fault was it? He realised why she'd ran out, and he felt bad about it. Really bad. He'd ejaculated p that meant she could be pregnant, which was bad for her and bad for him if it transpired she did become pregnant, and then told someone whose it was. Sometimes, he thought life would be easier if they had never been paired up – but then his life would lack… something. He never handled alcohol well, and this was proving to be such a time where he wished he wasn't such a lightweight. He was worried about her, no way he wouldn't be, but he also knew she could take care of herself. He burrowed under his duvet, shaking off the shivers of foreboding, and forced himself to sleep._

'Booth?' Brennan's voice cut through his recollection like a hot knife through butter.

'Yeah?'

'Why do you care?'

'Why are we having this conversation?'

'Because if we didn't, we'd be drifting into fast lane traffic…'

'Oh, I see your point. I can because… I like you more than I should and it hurts that you don't like me back because this isn't just like a crush in high school, it's a proper relationship and working with you is nearly killing me.'

'Oh.'

'Is that all you can say?'

'Well what do you want me to say! Sorry I ran out on you, it was a mistake and I love you? Because I won't say Booth! You know me better than that.' She was crying again, tears spilling down over her cheeks and dripping down onto her hands.

'Bones… I'm sorry, I just wasn't thinking.'

'That seems to be a running theme for today!' She rested her head in her hands and tried to block out what he was saying, wished there was some way for her to make it better between them. Booth shook her arm again, rougher this time.

'Bones, talk to me.'

'What do you want me to say to you?' She sounded defeated and tired, her voice cracking with the strain of trying to keep on top of everything.

'I don't know Bones, just…'

'Just…?'

'I don't know.' The conversation evaporated, leaving both of them feeling unsatisfied and confused as to what was going to happen next. It was a relief when they pulled up outside her apartment building.

**oOo**

'You ready yet?' Booth asked her, drumming his fingers uncertainly on the kitchen counter.

'Sort of…'

'What do you mean, "sort of"? You either are or you aren't.'

'Then I'm not, could you help me?'

'Sure.' He slipped into her room and saw her, hair tousled and her shirt held in one hand.

'I can't get this on… my arm…' She told him pathetically, annoyed at herself for being so pathetic about a little pain across the top of her arm. The bandage was getting loose and Booth placed a hand on it.

'I gotta redo this first, okay?' She nodded, and let him unwind the soft white bandage that was loose and slowly falling down. He drew in a breath at the sight, but, tactfully, stayed silent and tightened the bandage. 'Too tight?'

'N-no… thank you.'

**TBC – Reviews are always appreciated :D**


	3. Sunday Evening

**Chapter 3 :) Thanks to my reviwers, I seriously can't be bothered to shout you all out okay? But you have earned my eternal love. I love you all because you are nice to me in reviews, and there is much constructive criticism… I'm trying to use American phrases but I'm English so the hints and tips are much appreciated and understood *salutes*. Love love love love :)**

'Booth… why are you still here?' She asked him, buttoning her shirt with clumsy fingers.

'Because you're my partner and I care about you.' He told her, handing her a jacket.

'Apart from that. We work together every day and I know how you feel about me… which is why I think you're here because of your feelings for me.'

'No, Bones. I'm here for you because you're my friend. Friends are there for each other you know? They stick together, a team. Bones, they stick up for each other and they care about one another. I care about you, so maybe it's more than I should, but I care about you as a friend as well. Believe me.'

'I'll try. Can we go? I want this over,'

'It's not going to be over, ever, you'll remember this for the rest of your life and I'm sorry you have to.' He hugged her tightly, enveloping her in pure him, his smell, his warmth and even the feel of his arms underneath the tight denim of his jacket. She rested her head on the valley between his neck and shoulders, forcing herself not to cry again. 'You really like our guys hugs, don't you.' She laughed through her sobs.

'Y-yeah.' He tightened his grip around her fractionally and she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was a few minutes before she stepped back and Booth stared at his feet, a flush creeping up his neck.

'Look… about Friday night, I wanted to talk to you about it…'

'I get it Booth. You cheated on your girlfriend for me and you regret it.'

'No, that's not it!' He ran his hands through his hair and paced around her room, trying to find a way to explain himself.

'Then what is it?' She asked him, folding her arms.

'Bones, I was going to let her go… I don't love her the way I love you, and I'm so sorry, I'm babbling, again.'

'Booth… I don't care that you're babbling, I don't care that I'm hurting because of what I did, I care about how you feel.'

'What?'

'I care about how you're feeling because of me… I'm sorry I'm making you feel this way…' She trailed off miserably and he took her hands softly in his own.

'You don't need to be sorry.' He told her, squeezing her hands. He had seen the other side of her, seen her pain and the suffering behind the cool façade she tried so hard to maintain and it nearly crippled him to see her this way.

'But I do! I don't know why it happened but I feel awful… you and Katherine are good for each other Booth, you need someone that isn't as clinical and detached, someone that can try to take risks and take a chance, jump off the edge – and I'm not that person.' She perched on the edge of a chair, shaking with sobs.

'Bones, listen to me. You _were _that person, you were clinical and detached and someone that didn't take risks. But you've changed Brennan, you've changed because you've worked with me and you've loosened up and become someone who does take risks, who can make jokes, bad ones, but you can. You aren't the clinical, cold person you think you are – and this time you have to believe me.'

'I can't, Booth. I can't. I'm not the person you think I am.' She drew in a deep shuddering breath and felt as helpless as she had the day Booth had admitted his feelings for her.

'Bones, please… please just trust me.'

'I can't Booth! I don't know how!' He came and stood cautiously beside her, one hand resting heavily on her shoulder.

'Yeah you do… you can trust people. You just need to try.'

'Booth, I-I can't.' She was crying. Her elbows rested on her knees, and on her hands she rested her head, tears slowly running down her cheeks and between her fingers. She looked so defeated and beaten that Booth could hardly bear it any longer. He cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes.

'Sure you can, here.' He raised his hand and trailed his fingers down her cheek. She flinched and he backed away slightly.

'I-I'm trying Booth.'

'I know.' He dropped his hand and walked away. 'Come on, I'll take you to the car so we can find out what happened to you.'

**oOo**

The car journey was tense, a thick silence held heavy and ominous above their heads as they went. Both wanted to say something, but neither felt brave enough to begin a conversation.

'Brennan?' He asked, clearing his throat slightly. She jumped and turned to face him.

'Yes?' Her voice was quiet, a little more than a squeak.

'Shall we start outside my apartment building? You didn't get a cab did you?'

'Yes we should and no I didn't, so I couldn't have gone far… but I was in a blind panic, I can't remember much from when I ran out from your apartment, I'm sorry.'

'You can try to, I'll go wherever.'

'Fair enough, so then… shall we start?'

'Yeah.' Booth turned the case around and drove for a while in silence, ending outside his apartment. 'The closest bar is about 250 metres from my place, so we'll start there okay?'

'O-okay.' They drove past the first bar, and Brennan suddenly sat up straighter in the seat. 'Here… it was here.'

'Are you sure?'

'I think so… I don't remember much but I do remember this place.'

'Okay, get out, lets do this.' He told her, unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping from the stiflingly warm interior of the car. He helped her out, gentle towards her as though she were a crystal vase that may shatter at the slightest touch. He thought she would push him away, but instead she pressed back against his touch, relying on his strength to hold her up. She reached out and took a hold of his hand; surprised, but not against it, he squeezed back and she smiled sadly. They walked slowly to the door, the evening sun setting behind them as they stepped inside the smoky room, the smoke and alcohol making Brennan want to projectile vomit. Booth seemed to notice her pale face and the sheen of sweat on her forehead.

'Are you okay?' He asked quietly, squeezing her hand a little tighter. She shook her head mutely and wrenched her hand from his grip, waves of hot and cold running up and down her trembling body.

'No, the smell of alcohol compounds, cigarette smoke and stale sweat is making me want to throw up what little I have in my stomach.' She told him simply, gritting her teeth to keep from retching. Booth looked over his shoulder at her as he walked towards the bar, reaching in the pocket of his jacket for his badge.

'Hello, I'm agent Seeley Booth, I have some questions for you.' He told the frightened looking bar owner, cranking up his smile to its absolute brilliance.

'Oh really? Don't you need a warrant?' Booth was instantly suspicious and was set on his guard immediately, giving the slight young man a cursory once over.

'No, I just want to ask some questions, friendly questions.'

'Really?' The young man paused in wiping down the top of the bar and leant on it, staring at the older FBI agent.

'Yeah, you see, my friend,' By this point Brennan was standing next to him, her hands clasped on the top of the bar – and he indicated her as she shuffled from foot to foot with impatience. 'Thinks she was here on Friday night. Were you working the shift that night?'

'Yeah I was here? You wanna know if I remember her?'

'Yeah, I do actually because she's my work partner, and I'd like it if you tell me who bought her a drink.'

'Well she was here, but there were a lot of people here that night, and I'm sure they'd buy any pretty lady a drink.'

'Well she isn't any pretty lady, she's my friend. So think.'

'Well our regulars were sitting there… and there was this new guy, nothing special, but cause he was new, I noticed him. Which is why I noticed your friend here.' He pointed at Brennan, who gave him a withering look as he turned his attention back to Booth.

'And what did he look like?'

'Pretty unremarkable, about average height and weight. Light brown hair… pale skin, couldn't make out the eye colour.'

'What was he wearing?' Booth asked, scribbling down the slapdash description in his black, FBI issue notebook.

'A black tee, stonewashed jeans with a huge rip in the left knee, and a jacket, I think it was leather or something like fake leather – maybe black or brown, it's dark in here.'

'Right, anything else?'

'No… wait, yes! There was a tattoo on the inside of his wrist.'

'What of?'

'A black star on the inside of his right wrist, it wasn't that big…'

'Uh huh… and what did said star look like?' Booth handed the man the pad of paper and his pen, and the younger person set to work. He was skilful with a pen and soon a detailed sketch of the tattoo was on the centre of the small notepad page.

'Are you done? Because… uh… I have to work now.' Booth nodded and pocketed the notebook.

'Yes, but we'll have our artist come in to do a sketch from what you've said, she'll be here later – name's Angela. Be nice.'

**oOo**

Brennan slid into the car like a ghost, staring forwards through the windshield, hands clasped tightly together.

'Brennan? Are you okay?' He asked her softly, one hand resting on her knee.

'Yeah… I'm fine…' She answered quietly, closing her eyes. 'Just… something's coming back about Friday night…'

_She was crying, worried and scared that she might be pregnant. No drug stores were open at two in the morning, and there was no way she was going to hospital to get a pill she could get over the counter in the morning. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and felt the cold wind ruffle her hair, sending shivers down her spine as she walked. She clutched her jacket tighter around her shivering form and headed vaguely in the direction of a bar near Booth's apartment building. She stumbled once, tears streaming down her face, the wind slowly making it go numb. She tried to stem the flow, tried to stop the tears from coming but they wouldn't, the only thing she could think of was Booth and how guilty she felt for running out on him. Slowly, her rational mind began to return, and with it, her pride. She was too proud to go back to Booth; she didn't want to see him again until she had to._

'_Damn you Booth.' She muttered, buttoning her jacket up and running her fingers through her brown hair, untangling the knots. She turned the corner and saw the bar, and, without thinking, strode inside._

'_What can I get you?' The bartender asked – he was young and remotely good looking, his slight form and black hair that fell into his eyes._

'_Whisky…' He took in her general dishevelled appearance and tactfully said nothing, handing her a glass of whisky with ice._

'_Thanks.' She downed the whole thing in one go – and it was then that she noticed the man across the bar watching her. 'Can I help you?' She asked, rather rudely, but for once, she decided she didn't care._

'_Sure can. What are you drinking?'_

'_Whisky…'_

'_Whisky for the lady.' He flagged down the barman and she noticed he slipped the barman a folded over bill, handled extremely carefully._

'_What did you put in it?' She asked him when the drink was handed to him._

'_Nothing, just drink it.' She reflected that her next action was extremely stupid, but she drunk the drink anyway. And a little after that, everything was black._

'What do you remember?'

'I didn't see his face, at all, at least… not clearly enough for me to remember it.'

'Damn.'

'Yeah.' The conversation ended again, and they sat there in silence.

'What were you drinking anyway?'

'Whisky… Booth, I even saw that he had something to hide, he handed over a dollar bill that was folded and handled carefully – I saw him slip it into my drink but I drank it anyway. I wasn't thinking straight.'

'That was a bit stupid.'

'You think I don't know! I regret it completely!'

'Bones, calm down.'

'I can't, I'm ashamed of myself.' Booth sat still, completely at a loss at what to do

**A/N: I'm trying! Reviewsies?**


	4. Monday Morning

**Wooooo I apologize again for the delay, but it's longer and I've been really busy… and I'm proud that I have no flamers *touch wood* yet. So enjoy this – and there is much love for my reviewers ^_^**

Booth tiptoed almost silently from her bedroom, holding his shoes in his hands as he crossed the soft carpet outside her door. He smiled to himself as he pushed her door to with a soft click, the breath catching in his throat as he heard her toss and mumble in her fitful sleep. The watch on his wrist caught the light from her living room and he tilted the face so that he could see the dial and the time. He noted it in his head – a little after two in the morning. He considered staying the night on her couch, but after an internal struggle and some deliberation, he decided that going back to his place was a better option, he was tired and a night on her couch would do him no good at all. But there was something to be done first – something extremely important that needed to be done before he could shy away from it and change his mind. He picked up his keys from the side, juggling them from hand-to-hand as the voice of doubt in his mind tried to attack his reinforced decision. He posted them into his pocket before turning his tired brains focus to the item in his other pocket. He scooped his phone from the interior of his pocket and slowly keyed in a number that he had barely learnt and only just remembered. He finished typing and begun the call, holding the phone up to his ear and fortifying himself as he heard the dial-up begin on the other end of the line.

'Seeley!' He heard his girlfriend exclaim, excitement obvious in her voice, making what he was about to do slightly harder than it already was.

'Hey… I…'

'Where were you on Friday? I missed you.' Her jealous girlfriend instinct was very strong, and she had reason to be suspicious, and he used to love it – but now it just irritated him beyond belief. He could almost imagine her, hands on hips in her kitchen, berating and interrogating him down the phone.

'I was at my place, like I am every Friday.'

'Your phone was off, I tried to call you… five times.' She was angry, and slightly scary when she was angry, but he was on the end of the phone, not face-to-face. He decided that being face-to-face would result in his face being torn off and the spat on when he did what he was planning to do.

'So what if it was.' Her jealousy was grating on his tired nerves.

'You never turn your phone off – in case of work, you've told me that enough times.'

'Well I did this time Katherine. Look, I wanted to-.'

'What do you want to do? Is it important because in case you haven't noticed the time, it's way too early for me to even be talking to anyone.'

'Then why did you answer your phone!' He was going to shout, but decided that waking a tired and traumatised Brennan was not a good idea at the current moment in time.

'Because it was you!'

'Oh, well sorry for this, but I don't love you, I'm sorry… it's over between us.'

'You're not sorry.' She spat. 'Is it your partner again? Because she will _never _love you.' She told him spitefully, hitting a nerve with him.

'It has _NOTHING _to do with her, nothing.'

'It has everything to do with her, don't lie to me Seeley Booth.'

'Katherine, I swear to you,' He crossed his fingers. 'It doesn't have anything to do with her.'

'Was I your rebound girl?' She asked suddenly, spitefully.

'I…'

'On second thoughts, don't answer that, I know it's the truth.'

'I'm sorry Katherine, but this is why we're breaking up, because you're too jealous and I don't want to be constantly looking over my shoulder every time a woman says hello to me in the street. I can't cope with your jealousy and judgements of me whenever I got to work. I didn't want this any more than you did, but I can't cope with this… with _you _any more, and I don't want to do this, to do _us _any more.'

'Whatever.' She replied coolly, and then he heard the dial tone burring incessantly in his ear. He both had and hadn't wanted to end it with her, he had to admit that he'd felt something for her when Brennan's rejection had shaken him up, but it was, as she'd suspected, a rebound. He'd wanted it over for a while, but he'd miss her presence in his life, especially if Brennan didn't want him after this. He just hoped he hadn't ended it for nothing.

**oOo**

Brennan awoke, a cold sweat all over her body, and she was trembling, shaking uncontrollably. She drew her knees up to her chest and leaned back against the headboard, clutching the thick winter duvet around her. She could see the cold, grey light of dawn through the curtains and looked at her watch wearily, resigned to the fact that if she did attempt sleep, it would be nightmare plagued and not worth the effort. It was a little before five. She sat in the same position for an hour, straining her memory, and gaining nothing more than a headache of migraine strength and crippling capability. Groaning, she stood up and walked into her bathroom, her nightshirt rumpled and hanging just below her knees as she made her way, almost blinded by pain, towards her bathroom. Once inside, she closed the door, and, irrationally, locked it behind her – something she'd never done before. The whole idea of being date-raped had sunk in at last, and now she was scared of everything, scared she'd be violated and hurt again. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the window as she swallowed the aspirin, the chalky dryness drying her throat and mouth out almost completely. The cool of the window soothed her in its simpleness, she knew exactly why it was cold and how soon it would warm up from the temperature of her skin. She preferred science to people; science made sense with her, people did not. She didn't understand how a persons mind worked, despite reading scientific journals about it, she found herself unable to relate to it herself. Booth was the people person, Booth was the one that understood the needs of people and could relate as easily as snapping his fingers. It hurt that she was so clumsy at reading human emotions, so slow at picking up on what they were trying to tell her. She was a poor reader, and a poor emitter; most people thought she was dull with all her scientific talk and never gave her a chance to prove herself to them as someone who could try to let her emotions show. Booth was one of the only people that had given her the chance; Booth and Angela were the only people she opened up to and let in, let them see who she was beneath the veneer of a cold-hearted scientist that was unable to feel like other people. A single tear rolled down her cheek and landed on her leg as she thought about the care Booth had shown her in the past days – and the coolness she'd shown him. She took a deep breath in and consulted her watch again, grimacing as the movement of her head shook waves of pain throughout her body. It was a quarter past six now, and she reached for the taps of her shower, turning the hot water up to full and waiting until steam was enveloping her in tendrils, cooling and lying like sweat on her skin. When the bathroom was full of grey, fluffy steam, she opened her window and turned the cold water on, testing it with her hand until she was content it was cool enough. She stripped off her nightshirt and stepped under the running water, the pounding of it on her shoulders driving all thoughts of anything else from her head. She spent a long time just standing under the steady stream of water, knowing she'd never feel clean again, but trying to at any rate. After about an hour, she looked over to the sink where her watch was lying and decided she needed to get out before her apartment ran out of hot water. She reached forwards with a trembling hand and shut off the water, sitting against the wall until her skin erupted in goose bumps and the cold air from the open window invaded the steamy air of before. She grabbed a soft white towel from the rack and wrapped herself in it, her dark hair sticking wetly to her back and the nape of her neck as she refastened her watch to her wrist, the silver chain and face glinting under the harsh lights of her bathroom. She clicked them off and unlocked the door; the bolt sticking slightly as she tried to unfasten it, the years of never being used making sliding it out an arduous task. When the bolt was clear of its bracket, she turned the handle and stepped out of her bathroom, leaving wet footprints in a trail after her. It was as much as she could manage to collapse on her bed with her hair wrapped in a towel and herself also wrapped in a towel. After a long moment, she stood up and poked around in her drawers for something that she could wear that she'd feel safe in. She deliberated driving to the Jeffersonian to steal a suit of armour, she'd definitely feel safe in that, but then discovered that her plan had more than a few flaws. More like giant holes.

1. Getting inside that department without being detected.

2. Getting the suit of armour on without help

3. If not getting it on, getting it in her car

4. Getting out of the Jeffersonian without being detected by anyone that worked there.

She decided that stealing a suit of armour was a _bad _plan, and then grabbed some black slacks from her wardrobe, and a linen shirt – also from her wardrobe. She lay the items of clothing on her bed and slowly towel dried her hair, unable to even contemplate lifting the hairdryer and using it to dry her hair, the idea itself too much effort to think about. She slowly towel-dried her long brown hair, now black with the water that she had previously been standing under. It took a little over half an hour for her to dry her hair completely, the light brown waves sticking up in tufts with her brush nowhere near her hand. She saw the black hairbrush over on the other side of the room, where she'd left it on… she didn't know… the blackness between Friday morning and Sunday morning. When she had finally dragged herself over to her brush and back onto her bed, she tugged it through the knotted tufts of light brown hair that stuck up at odd angles thanks to her towel drying technique. She suddenly became aware of a delicious smell wafting under her door and she sat up straighter, dragging the brush through her hair one last time before standing up and checking her tired reflection in the mirror. Her skin was white, nearly grey, and the lack of delicate make up that was usually there made her look almost like a ghost. There was a black fitted jacket hanging on the back of her door and, wearily, she pulled it on, crossing her arms over her chest, keeping it tight. Her hand was trembling as she reached for the handle, and she closed her eyes for a second, willing it to stop. When she opened her eyes again, it was still trembling and she let out a quiet moan of despair. The handle was cool beneath her hand and she pushed it down, cautiously taking in the sight outside of her bedroom door. She couldn't see anything, but the mouth-watering smell was still hanging in the air, so she ventured further until she was in her kitchen.

'Morning Bones.'

'Booth? How did you get in here?'

'I have a spare key… are you okay?' He asked, peering into her face from his position at the other end of the room.

'Y-yeah… I guess…'

'You don't seem very sure.'

'I'm not sure, would you be?' She railed at him, her anger flaring up.

'No, I wouldn't – which is why I asked to see if you were doing okay, because I'm worried about you and I care about you.'

'Well… thank you.' She lowered her gaze to her trembling hands and tried to force herself not to cry in front of him, hiding her emotions. She didn't want him to see her like this, didn't want him to see her so broken and defeated.

'Bones, you aren't okay, are you?'

'N-no…' She sighed, raising her face and letting him see the tears tracking across her cheeks. He crossed the room in three strides and enveloped her in his arms, her trembling form held tightly in his strong arms.

'I brought you breakfast… I was going to cook you some, and then remembered that I couldn't actually cook…'

'Well I'd rather you didn't kill me to be perfectly honest.' She told him, stepping away from his clinging embrace.

'That you for that vote of faith.' He handed her a paper bag with the top rolled down and she unrolled it carefully, peering inside.

'Thank you for breakfast.' She drew out the warm cinnamon roll and took a bite, savouring the flavours.

'Well I thought you wouldn't be up to food, and wouldn't feed yourself, so I thought that if I got you some you'd be okay…'

'I get it, thank you.' She offered him a weak smile that even she could tell was merely a ghost of her former grin. She finished the roll and scrunched up the paper bag, tossing it in her bin as she went to wash her hands of the sugar that was coating her fingers. He watched the waves of her hair as she washed her hands, her back to him. The thought of the conversation last night with Katherine weighed heavily on his mind, and he couldn't shake the faint feeling of guilt that he was desperately trying to shove to the back of his mind.

'Did you remember anything overnight?'

'I can remember a little more about whatever happened, but it's only a little…'

_Brennan could feel the whisky going down her throat; smell the heady alcohol fumes that were filling the small bar up with their cloying scent. The folded bill had drawn her suspicions, but she had drunk the drink anyway, not thinking straight, her head all over the place. She heard someone slide up into the stool next to her, but ignored them and kept her head down. She was feeling tired and slowly intoxicated… her mind numbed by the alcohol and… God know what else…_

'_You seem tired… can I get you a cab?' It was a man, and she wanted dearly to punch him, but getting a free cab seemed to be a good idea, seeing as her purse was at Booth's._

'_Sure…' Her head was clouding over and then she was tired… she didn't understand… and then she remembered the trunk of a car, and nothing._

'Do you still have my purse?'

'Oh yeah…' He handed her the black leather purse from his jacket.

'Thanks…'

'Brennan? Can I see your wrists?'

'What? Oh sure…' She held out her wrists and he saw the ghosts of ligature marks.

'Oh Bones… what did he do to you?' He asked her quietly.

'Well-.'

'You don't have to answer that, it was a rhetorical question.'

'Oh…' He wrapped her in his tight embrace and held her close to his chest, feeling her tears soaking through his cotton tee.

**Reviewsies… please?**


	5. Early Afternoon On Monday

**I'll try to make this less depressing… sorry, but I think Booth comforting is cute as hell, they should bottle up his comfort and sell it – I'm pretty sure all us fangirls would buy it *fangirl squeal* on second thoughts… just bottle up Booth, and I think we'd all buy him. Sorry for the long paragraph… it was just… well, anyway.**

Brennan clung to his jacket as he gently caressed her back and arms, his warmth slowly leeching into her.

'Are you okay?' He asked her again, the words already becoming tedious in his mind.

'I guess for the moment…' She told his chest, subconsciously rubbing the red marks on her wrists. A shred of memory floated to the forefront of her mind, and she desperately tried to grab a hold of it, but every time she got close it would slip away. She relaxed her mind, hoping it would just drift back into her consciousness, become apparent. It slowly drifted in, becoming clearer until she could put a finger on it.

'Bones… you okay?'

'I just… something tiny came back. He was supposed to get me a cab, but I guess the rohypnol was working its way into my system at that point because I was on the verge of blacking out. There was a car, maybe silver or powder blue… it was dark and I didn't see properly.'

'I doubt that psycho would have had a powder blue car to be honest.'

'So do I… do you think that the CCTV would have picked me up? And the car?'

'That's a plan… why didn't I think of it?'

'Because you were too busy going out of your head with worry over me.'

'I knew that.'

'Well you obviously didn't-.' He placed a finger over her lips.

'This is one of those times where you stay quiet.'

'Oh… right…' Suddenly, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She flipped it open and held it to her ear. 'Brennan.'

'Hey sweetie, it's Angela.'

'Hi Angela, can I help you at all?'

'You're due in today… about an hour ago actually, and we're kinda wondering… where the hell you are to put it nicely.'

'My apartment, I didn't realise how late I was, I'm sorry, I'll be right in.' She folded her phone down and smiled apologetically. 'I need to… go.'

'I'll give you a lift, I'm pretty sure Angela will quiz you on your only weekend off in over four years.'

'I think so, stay quiet, please. I don't want her thinking we did… what we did…' She told him, grabbing her coat from the back of the door and making for the door. He grabbed her arm first.

'Brennan, I would _never _betray you like that, you seriously have to learn to trust me because if you can't trust your partner, who can you trust?'

'Family.' She answered, completely serious.

'Again Brennan.'

'Oh… sorry…' She gave him a bashful smile and pulled her coat on, the rain outside hammering on the windows so loudly that she could barely think.

'No, it's okay.' He smiled and opened her door, holding it for her as she walked through the doorway.

'I need to lock up…' Her hand was trembling as she slid the key into the lock and she forced her arm to remain still, stopping her shaking. Booth waited beside her, leaning against the wall in a calm manner, the way only he could. She slipped her key back into her pocket and turned, heading away from her apartment and towards the outside world. He sighed softly, nearly inaudibly, and followed her.

**oOo**

The drive was strange, alien to them both. Brennan sat in the far corner, pressed up against the window with her arm resting on the sill. She tossed her hair over to hide her face, hiding her pale skin and bruising beneath her eyes. The purple rings showed up dark against her paper-white skin, enhancing the red scratches that ran laterally across her face that even the thickest foundation couldn't hide – despite her numerous tries.

'Bones?'

'Mmm?'

'Don't hide your face like that.'

'Why not, I have nothing to show.'

'Bones, you're beautiful, don't ever think that because of what someone did to you they can take it away.'

'I don't feel beautiful, I feel achy and tired and I hurt all over; then add on top of that the fact that I feel undeniably violated, I don't even feel like myself.'

'Fair enough, but Bones, seriously, you'll be okay.'

'Will I? I don't feel like it.'

'You will.' She nodded, still hiding her face from him with her waves of dark hair that fell to way past her shoulders. Booth cast askance glances at her as she rested her head against the window, hands curled around each other on her lap. He watched her chest rise and fall with her breathing, noticed the smallest details like the trembling in her arm and shoulders. He wanted to hold her close and tell her that everything would be okay, but he couldn't, he would be lying – something he despised, because he didn't know what was going to happen. She looked out of the window, staring out at the dull grey scenery that was office buildings and streetlights, occasionally interspersed with the odd tree or lamppost. Her eyes misted up and she closed them for a second, forcing herself not to cry again. Booth placed a hand on her leg and she placed hers over it affectionately, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. His eyes widened, but he kept his hand there, ignoring his heart rate that was picking up and beginning to race.

'Are you okay?' He asked her, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on her knee.

'Better, a lot better than I was.' She shifted her arm away from the window, wincing as the stitches in her wound twinged and pulled.

'How's your arm and ankle?'

'Hurts, but it'll get better, I know it will.'

'I guess…' The drive progressed in awkward silence, Booth wanting to speak, but afraid to, and Brennan wanting to hear what he had to say, but afraid of his words if they were to hurt her. Booth moved his hand and placed it on the steering wheel, both hands clasped firmly to the plastic wheel, knuckles white.

'So where are we going?' He asked her, eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead of him.

'The diner? Sid's? The lab?'

'I think the diner seems like a good plan.' He told her, taking a sharp left turn and sliding to a halt, nearly rubbing his tyres against the curb.

'Even though I was due at the lab an hour ago?'

'An hour's an hour, another twenty minutes won't hurt.'

'Fine.'

'Great! Hungry?'

'Yeah… well I'm not exactly hungry, but I'll drink and eat something… I guess.' She was quiet, slowly massaging a pain in the base of her spine, rubbing circles in an effort to relieve the pressure. There was a bruise on the small of her back from something… most likely from the trunk of a car she'd been locked in during the weekend. Booth opened his door, unbuckled his seatbelt and leapt from the car, landing lightly on the balls of his feet. He sauntered casually around the other side of the car and opened her door, resisting the temptation to take her hand like a gentlemen from the 1880's. She gave him a strange look and slid out of his car, graceful on her feet compared to him. He resisted the temptation to grab her around the waist all the way along the sidewalk to the diner and through the door, but it took all of his self-control. He resented the way his pulse raced every time he saw her make small actions that took his breath away. Before all this had happened, it was the self-confident flick of the hair as she walked away from him, the sway of her hips and her graceful gestures.

'Booth?'

'Huh?'

'You stopped.'

'Oh… I did. Sorry, I was… thinking.'

'A rare occurrence for you.' She remarked dryly, a vain attempt at a ghost of her former sense of humour.

'That's not nice,' He replied evenly, taking a step forward until he was standing next to her.

'No, it's not. And neither is date rape, but it happens.'

'Ouch.' He mimed rubbing an imaginary wound and went up to the counter as she sat down, resting her throbbing arm on the table. Booth came back towards her, a mug of coffee in one hand and a plate with what looked like half a pie on it.

'Thanks, Booth.' There was a weariness in her voice that had not been there before, and he only noticed because it seemed like she was beginning to crack under the strain of retaining the façade that she was fine in public. When she was in his apartment, or in hers for that matter, she could cry and swear and break down with no fear of anyone finding out or judging her. It was a matter of her pride, which she was afraid of damaging because it was all she had. She had maybe two or three friends to speak of, limited family and no social life; her pride in being right was all that kept her going. She took the mug from his hand and took in deep breath, the heady smell of coffee filling her nostrils and enveloping her in it's glorious scent.

'No problem.' He sat down opposite her and began shovelling pie into his mouth as fast as his actions would allow.

'Are you actually tasting that? Or just eating because you can?'

'A little bit of both I guess. I like pie, and I'm eating to keep you company.' H offered her a forkful which she politely declined, the thought of the intense rush of sugar and E-numbers she would get from it making her feel ill.

'No… thanks.' She took another sip of her coffee, the dark liquid running down her throat, warming her all the way down. It tasted good, but it needed something… she tipped a tiny packet of sugar into it and took another sip – perfect.

'You never have sugar.' Booth told her, eyebrows contracting slightly as he watched her drink.

'Well I felt like some sugar.' But he was right, she remembered why she didn't have sugar, the coffee was beginning to taste ridiculously sweet. Forcing herself to drink the last bits, she placed the mug carefully on the table and slumped forwards, arm aching, head pounding, and her ankle a dull ache that she noticed whenever she moved it fractionally. Booth looked at her, chewing thoughtfully on the remains of what had been a huge slice of cherry pie; demolished in minutes. His self-control was being tested again, he wanted to stand up and place an arm around her shoulder, but was scared she'd shrug him off and leave him standing there like a complete idiot.

'Bones?' He asked softly, clearing his plate and dropping his fork on the china with a metallic clatter.

'Hmm?'

'Do you want to go? Get to the lab? Avoid all the questioning as best as you can?'

'Might be a good idea.' Her voice was muffled, her sleeve-clad arm in front of her face, blocking her words.

'We should go then…' He prompted after a few seconds of silence.

'Yeah…' Her voice was quiet again, and her head was resting on her forearm, hair falling over the table in a dark waterfall.

'Bones?'

'What?' She snapped, sitting up straight.

'We need to go if you want to get it before they get back from lunch.'

'They're already back.'

'How do you know?'

'Can you see them here?'

'Good point, but they could have gone somewhere else.' Even to his mind it sounded stupid, they always came here whenever they got a break for lunch, or after work. And it was always him and Bones left behind after they'd left, sitting where they were now, making conversation until they made their reluctant way home.

'They don't go anywhere else.' She sighed heavily and rubbed her face with her hand, Booth noticing belatedly, the tears tracking down it. He stood up that time, all thoughts of self-control abolished, and sat next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest. She wanted to push him away, but the lure of his warmth and comfort was too strong, she let him hold her until her tears had dried and she was feeling relatively human again.

'Better?' Booth knew better than anyone, because of Parker, that crying sometimes was the best thing to do when you were in pain or desperately sad.

'Yeah.' She was in emotional turmoil, she wanted to push him away, but simultaneously, she was tired of pretending she felt nothing for him, it was hard for her to have to squash down those feelings every day of the week. 'Thanks.'

'No problem.' He wanted to add "honey" to the end of that sentence, but didn't want to at the same time, he knew how strong she was and didn't want a mark on his face, or anywhere else for that matter, where she displayed her strength and skill. 'Shall we go?' Again, that urge.

'Yes.' She grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and followed him to where the car was; suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something. And froze. Time stopped, and memories flooded back.

_She stood outside the bar with the stranger, breathing in the crisp autumn air, shivering slightly beneath her thin jacket. The stranger didn't raise his arm for a cab, or call one on his cell for that matter; he just took her arm in a powerful grip and began to lead her away. She tried to fight, but the drugs clouding her mind were making her limbs extremely unresponsive at the same time, something extremely infuriating when you're trained in several different styles of martial arts. Something they never teach you though – how to fight when you've been drugged._

'_Come along.' His voice was gruff as she tried to prise his arm off of hers, her cold fingers slow and unresponsive. 'Don't fight me, you'll only make it worse for yourself.' Brennan was wondering how exactly thing _could _be worse than they already were, but wisely kept her quip to herself; not that she'd be able to voice it anyway, with the drugs racing through her system. She did, however, manage to form one word that he heard._

'_Why?'_

'_Why you? Why not. Why this? Again, why not?' Her brain was fuzzy, her tongue slow and somehow heavy, but she tried one more time._

'_What have I done to you?'_

'_Nothing, which is why it's so satisfying. It's usually exes or people who have hurt me. It was my mother first.' He smiled at her, a grin that repulsed and terrified her. She had to get out of there fast, but she couldn't, her thoughts were muzzy, everything was softer around the edges and she was so tired… so tired… as if fighting it made any difference anyway. The man dragged her roughly to a silver Audi TT, soft-top convertible parked neatly by the curb, the paintwork shiny and sparklingly clean. He opened the boot, cramped by any standards, and pushed her, catching her in the knees so that she crumpled, her ankle hitting the back bumper hard and her head colliding with the carpeted interior. Then he shut the boot and there was darkness as the drug took a firm hold of her and dropped her into a deep state of unconsciousness._

'Bones? Bones? Bones, what's wrong?' Booth's panicked voice filtered into her thoughts.

'I…' She quickly relayed her memory to him and he gasped, already dialling.

'Did you get the registration plate?'

'I was drugged up Booth; you really think that if I did I would have had the capacity to remember it? Or even see it with eyes clouded over by a date-rape drug?' Sh was shivering, and rain was pounding on her head and shoulders, dripping off her coat. Booth could feel himself slowly becoming soaked through, the cold water soaking every article of his clothing in seconds at the ferocity it was coming down.

'Calm down.'

'I can't! I saw a silver Audi TT and now I'm scared that it'll be him every time because I don't know what he looks like!'

'Okay, okay, calm down.' The stupid urge wouldn't go away, so he whispered it to himself, 'honey.'

'What did you call me?'

'Nothing, I was thinking.' She glared at him and then he noticed that she was trembling with fear.

**Sorry for the delay – 6 whole word pages :P I hope you enjoy it**

**See that link there? Press it ^_^ and eternal love for you**

**Reviewsies?**


	6. Monday Night

**I am so sorry for the delay, but I really was hoping some of my usual reviewers would potter back, though they haven't – which makes me sad :( The only ones that came back, and thus deserve my love are: Celtic-Dreamscape, Oakland-Dreamer, Lisbon94 and Alice Haru. So yeah – there is so much love for all of you. Where did you all go my usual reviewers? *cries***

Brennan paused for a second outside of the highly imposing building in front of her, taking a deep breath in and fighting down the tears that were threatening to explode from her eyes. Shreds of her past fear were still laying heavily on her mind, sending spasms of cold down her spine that made her shiver. The sight of the car had shocked her out of her comfort zone, scared her more than anyone ever could. It had made her jump, and she was still falling, confused and disoriented about it, hoping and praying that someone would catch her or that she would have a safe landing. Booth was there with her, behind her in every sense of the word, but it wasn't enough anymore to have him as just a friend, to comfort. It didn't set her mind to rest or calm her jittery nerve knowing that when this was over they'd go back to the way they were – distancing themselves and working together, and he would no longer be there with her.

'You all right?' He asked, coming to stand next to her.

'What? Yes, I'm just thinking about what Angela's going to do to me.'

'Interrogate you.'

'I know, what do I say?' She began to panic slightly, taking deep breaths in before striding purposefully towards the lab.

'The truth.' Booth told the air in front of him.

**oOo**

Angela relaxed in her office, her feet up on the desk as she began to unwind and relax after a day of paperwork and endless cups of weak coffee. Her hands were cramped from holding a pen all day, and after several paper cuts, her fingers were stinging. She flexed her fingers and blew lightly on a particularly bad paper cut before covering it with plaster and returning to her keyboard.

'Angela?'

'Brennan? Sweetie!' Angela leapt to her feet and walked swiftly to her friend, hugging her tightly.

'Angela, hi.' Angela stepped back and examined her friend critically, a frown crossing over her features.

'Sweetie, are you okay?'

'I'm fine.' Angela looked over Brennan's face, the scores of scratches and bruises showing up darkly under the lights of the building.

'Well you don't look it.' Angela told her frankly as Brennan shrank away, one hand slowly rising to cover the shadows under her eyes.

'Thanks, Ange. I needed that.'

'Sweetie… what happened to you?' Angela asked quietly, still staring into her friend's face with a worried expression on her own.

'I… nothing.'

'Something happened to you Sweetie, but I know that you'll tell me when you want.'

'Thank you Angela.'

'I have something for you, to stop the questions from Hodgins,' She rummaged in her bag for a second before pulling out a pot of liquid foundation.

'Angela, I have some of this.'

'Yes, but do you have me?' She smiled and twirled the lid until it landed on the palm of her hand. One handed, she guided Brennan to her chair and knelt on the floor, applying a small amount on her fingertips and slowly blending it on Brennan's skin to cover up the worst of the bruises and scratches that marred the normally smooth surface. 'Done!' Angela turned the lid back on and tucked the pot of foundation back into her bag and giving her friend another piercing look before turning away.

'Did I miss anything?'

'No, no cases, it was just paperwork.'

'Oh, no bones in the basement in need of identifying?'

'Nope. No-one in limbo needing you.'

'So just paperwork.'

'I told you didn't I?'

'Sorry, look, I'm going to go to my office and do some paperwork that's been threatening to land on my head for a while.'

'Okay, see you later.' Brennan limped from the room, her arm aching with each step. Booth caught her up as she made her way to her office, favouring her right leg as she limped.

'Bones!' She turned weakly, clinging onto the door for all she was worth. 'Did you say anything?' He dropped his voice so that she was the only one who could hear.

'What do you take me for? No, I didn't.' She replied waspishly, pushing open the door and greeted by a mountain of paperwork that looked as though it would crush her. She looked quickly through one stapled sheet and sighed quietly as she realised that they all needed Booth's signature. 'Booth… You need to sign these with me.' She told him half-heartedly, scrawling her signature on the bottom of a report form and tossing it over to Booth who was sprawled on the sofa.

'Do I really?' He unclipped a pen from his jacket and scrawled his own signature untidily beside hers. Brennan closed her eyes fractionally in irritation and resumed writing her signature on every form, report and file and tossing them to Booth when she was done. 'How are you feeling?'

'I hurt all over. You're irritating me. And I'm so tired.'

'So… bad?'

'Yes. Bad.' She closed her eyes again and resumed paperwork, the pile beside her slowly diminishing.

'Bones… After this do you think you want to… go and check out the CCTV by the bar?'

'I… if you'll be willing to take me.'

'Of course I would.' He didn't bother to add that it was because he loved her, that is, if he didn't want to be walking funny for a week.

**oOo**

The bar was as lively as it ever got when they got there – that is to say, about five cars were in the car park and all of seven people were inside, sipping their drinks and staring aimlessly at the door. She stepped inside, hiding her face with her hair and walking slowly across the floor with Booth by her side. He looked askance at her and saw that her lower lip was trembling and that her arms were crossed tightly around her chest as though to hide it. He reached out a hand and rested it on her sleeve like she had done to him in the military funeral when he broke down and cried. She didn't shove his hand off; instead, she placed her hand over it, mirroring the moment from six years ago. Together, they walked up to the bar where the owner of before was there.

'Can we see the CCTV tapes of early Saturday morning please?' Booth asked him, flashing his badge at him and leaning over the bar.

'Why do you want it?'

'As I said before… My friend…' The bar owner nodded and disappeared into the dilapidated back room, returning with two tapes and a slip of paper.

'Here – Friday night and Saturday morning. It should cover it.'

'Thanks.' Booth told him as the bartender threw the paper at someone sitting at the bar, a drink in his hand. Brennan turned around, the alcohol already making her feel ill. She hurried out of the bar and ran to the car, bent over and gasping for breaths of cool, clean air.

'Bones!' Booth came running behind her and engaged the central locking before crouching down and peering into her face as she tried to draw in breath. 'Are you okay?' He asked her, brushing her long hair out of her face with a gentle hand.

'It's the alcohol… I don't know what's happened to me, I'm never usually like this.' She told him rapidly, breathing in deeply.

'It's okay.' He told her softly, opening her door. She slid inside and sat on the seat, her earlier moment of nausea passing.

**oOo**

Booth pushed the tape into the slot and settled on Brennan's couch in her office, watching her profile as she stared intently at the screen. The picture was grainy and in black and white, but they could see her as she left, with the man leading her.

'Why'd you do it Bones?'

'I was drunk.' She answered coolly, clasping her hands in her lap.

'I know… and it's my fault.' He said, nearly to himself even though she heard it and jumped, staring at him.

'No it isn't – you didn't make me drink all the whisky I had, and you didn't make me go with whoever that is.'

'But I made you run from my apartment.'

'Seriously, it wasn't just you, it takes two to engage in a sexual relationship Booth, and you can't just blame yourself.'

'But I want to.'

'Don't, let's just… watch.' They watched the car turn left and Booth made a mental not to check all the CCTV in that area to see if he could see where she went. He watched the video until it ran out and noticed that Brennan had been silent for a while, as though deep in thought. He looked over at her and saw that she was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling slightly with each breath. Instead of waking her up, he stood up and covered her with a blanket she kept in her office, tucking her in with a tenderness he usually only showed Parker. He slowly crept out and into the lab, looking at all the shiny equipment with distaste and sitting in the darkened room. It was odd seeing it so quiet and empty after being in it a lot, the bustle and life of it becoming a usual thing, seeing it quiet and empty was almost, no, completely unsettling. He watched the shadows stretching high above him and sighed quietly, walking back towards her office. He peered in the door, seeing her curled up on the sofa made his heart leap in his chest until he could hardly breathe for the racing of his heart.

'Bones?' He whispered, trying carefully not to alarm her as she woke, her grey eyes cloudy with sleep.

'Booth… did I fall asleep?' She asked, whispering too.

'Yes, I didn't want to wake you but I think you need to go home.'

'Oh, yes… I understand.' She sat up and stretched, the blanket falling off of her. He turned abruptly and left her office, heading towards his car with a determined stride. 'Booth! Wait!' She called, and he turned to face her, car keys held in one hand.

'Bones… what's wrong?' He asked, pocketing his keys.

'I… never mind.' She had geared herself up for this moment, but she couldn't do it, couldn't make herself do what she wanted.

'Never mind? Bones. What's wrong?'

'Seeing those tapes… I could have died.'

'But you didn't.'

'But I could.'

'And you didn't.'

'I was an idiot. And now I'm scared of making that mistake again.

'But you won't because you know now.'

'But I had to make the mistake before I knew not to do it.'

'You're fine, Bones. I'm here for you.'

'You won't be when this is over. It'll just be back to how we were, distancing ourselves and working together, hardly spending time with each other unless it's after a case.'

'Why though? Who says this has to change?'

'The FBI won't let this happen Booth. Won't let…'

'Wont let what…?'

'Won't let what we both want to happen… happen.'

'You want it too?'

'I'm tired, I shouldn't have said anything.' She told him, brushing off the question.

'Answer me Brennan. Do you want it too?'

'Want what?' She told him coolly, disregarding the question again.

'Look, Bones.'

'What?'

'Okay… _Joy._' He knew he had hit a nerve when she rounded on him, spitting like a wounded cat.

'Don't you dare! Joy Keenan is dead Booth. She died when I was three years old and Russ was seven. Don't you _ever_ say that name to me again because that is not who I am, or, in my memory, ever was.'

'Bones… I'm sorry. I just wanted to make you listen, get your attention.'

'You have my attention – what do you want?'

'Bones, listen to me. I want to be here for you forever. I don't want this to end, because you are my best friend and my colleague. You need someone and here I am, just please, please think about it.'

'Think about what?'

'This.'

**To find out what happens next you must review ;)**


	7. Early Tuesday Morning

**Hot4Booth – you are right! Okay, I couldn't hold it off much longer – I did well to stave it off this far, because it would have been in chapter 4, but I made three chapters later ^_^ So enjoy it, I know you will. (Much love for my current and hopefully the many new reviewers :D) Also, part of it is nearly the same as I Can't Live Without You, only without the rain. So I'm plagiarising myself :L**

Booth slowly, tentatively, placed his hands on her waist and slid them around until his fingertips touched. She looked alarmed and stepped back slightly, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. His deep brown ones seemed to eat away at her, and she found herself losing control of her emotions. He pulled her in tighter and let his hands roam slightly up her back until his hands were nearly on her shoulders. She felt a sudden rush of heady desire, and arched back slightly, clinging onto his forearms. He let a hand trace around her neck and tip up her chin until she was staring directly into his eyes and he was staring back. Her grey eyes were mesmerising to him, and he stared into them as though there was nothing else to look at in the entire world. The spark of anger that had been dancing in her eyes had faded, replaced instead, by a look that set his pulse racing.

'What did you mean by "this"?' She asked him in a husky whisper, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. His smile was heart-warming, and she could feel his heartbeat under his skin where her cheek was resting. His heartbeat was fast, light and made her heartbeat speed up to beat in time with his. The moment their lips touched took her breath away, an exhilarating moment of sheer passion that made her heart leap right into her throat. He pulled her in closer to him until her hair was tickling his upper arms and her could feel her clinging to him. He placed a hand behind her neck and she kissed him back, the blood rushing round her body as fast as her heart could beat. Their tongues touched and she tightened her grip around his neck until he lifted her onto her tiptoes and she stepped closer to him. Reluctantly, she broke off and rested her head back against his chest, her arms sliding down to circle his chest. He stroked her hair with one hand and circled her shoulders, pressing her against his warm skin.

'That.'

'So now it's that?'

'Past tense. It's happened.' He told her softly, slowly running his hand down her arm and linking their fingers together.

'Oh…'

'Oh?'

'I was… never mind.' She smiled quickly, covering up her small slip.

'Was?' He prompted her, leading her out of the lab.

'Hoping…' She sighed, almost inaudibly, but he still managed to hear it.

'Hoping what?' He asked her, an arm snaking around her shoulders and tightening around them as if to protect her from something that was threatening both of them.

'Just forget I said anything.' She told him, her arm wrapping loosely around his waist and her cheek resting lightly on his shoulder. Booth quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent as she hopped into his car, momentarily forgetting her sprained ankle and letting out a hiss of pain as she left the ground.

'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine.' She told him, clipping her seatbelt in and rubbing her ankle slowly, the swelling hardly going down at all. It was sore under her hand and every time she touched it, it sent ribbons of pain all the way up her leg.

'Has the swelling gone down yet?'

'Not really.'

'Do you want me to-?'

'No. No, I want to be alone tonight.'

'Okay, I'll drop you home then.'

'Thank you.' The rest of the drive was in silence, the full impact of what they had done just minutes ago weighing heavily on both of their minds. They pulled up outside Brennan's apartment building and she got out, leaning over awkwardly to kiss Booth on the cheek.

'Night.' He told her, squeezing her hand a final time.

'Night,' She echoed, ducking out of the car and heading towards the door of her building, letting herself in quietly. She took the long way to her apartment, working her ankle as much as possible, although by the time she was at her door, she was seriously beginning to regret it. She limped inside; relying heavily on her uninjured leg and went to the freezer, the icemaker clacking into life as she pressed the button, a bag held underneath. The bag filled, she turned and made her way slowly into her bedroom, stripping off and changing into a sleep shirt and some pyjama trousers before climbing into bed and lying between the cool sheets. She arranged the bag of ice on her ankle and lay awake, listening to the drone of the cars on the street below. She wasn't tired, and lay uncomfortably in her bed, the cold on her ankle slowly climbing up the rest of her body and making her shiver. She climbed from her bed, unable to sleep or even try to with the pain and iciness that was flowing through her body. She padded out of her room and into the living room; hauling herself up onto the windowsill and resting her forehead against the glass, watching the city below her slowly fall asleep.

'Damn it.' She swore under her breath as she realised her watch was in her room, and there was no way she would be going to get it right now. So, at whatever-the-time-was, probably early Tuesday morning, she realised her mistake. 'Shit… no… no… it can't be.' She started to cry, tears dropping onto her fingers and trousers, dampening her clothes and making her feel even colder and more miserable. Still sobbing, and shaking with sobs, she drew her legs up onto the ledge and held them there, watching the sky.

**oOo**

Booth too, was lying awake. His mind wasn't on pain or cold though, his mind was on something else; something that scared him. The letter was still on his kitchen table in a manila envelope, the address stamped on the front, and he had known who it was from all along; he hadn't needed the marine to come and talk to him in the street when he was with Brennan. He swung his legs out of bed and made his way to his kitchen, a slightly less clean one that Brennan's. On the table, innocently, was the letter that he had dreaded coming. He hadn't told anyone yet, he hadn't even told Parker or Brennan, no one knew apart from the military and him. Hands shaking, he re-read the letter, hating himself for doing it.

_Dear Agent Booth,_

_You will, I'm sure, be aware of the situation in the Far East. Everyday, soldiers are dying from lack of weapons and, crucially, training. You were a great soldier; you knew your training and your skills with a sniper rifle were astounding. We would like you, to come out to Afghanistan and help train the new recruits so that they have a better chance of survival than they do right now._

_Consider our offer of military pay and health care._

_Consider the lives you will be saving._

_Just think about it._

_We'll be here if you change your mind._

_Captain Ryan_

He shuddered as he read it, hating the captain for doing the one thing that could almost ensure him returning to the military: "_consider the lives you will be saving_". The lives he could save, he could have that on his conscience he supposed, as long as someone would remind him every time someone died that it wasn't his fault. It wasn't like he was going AWOL or anything; he was refusing to go back, voluntarily, into the line of fire. He liked his job, he liked where he worked and he liked working for the FBI if it meant working with Brennan. She may be clinical, cold and distant, but he loved her and she was nowhere near as bad as she'd been before they'd started to work together and he'd taught her how to stop being a complete social recluse. He wanted so badly to call her, to hear her voice again, but it was irrational after spending three days with her. He jumped as his mobile suddenly started to ring, and he looked at the caller ID. Rebecca. He frowned for a second, but flipped it up anyway.

'Rebecca?' He said cautiously.

'Yes, I have a favour for you.'

'Favour?'

'Look after Parker this week.'

'I can't, Rebecca, I have a huge case involving my partner and I don't want him caught up in it.'

'Fine.'

'I can do next week.'

'If you want.'

'I… I'm tired. Goodnight Rebecca.' He folded his mobile down and left it on the table, his heart heavy with all the choices that were being flung at him from several different directions.

**oOo**

Brennan had finally stopped crying, forcing herself to stop being so pathetic in the face of how the world was. She still stared aimlessly out of the window, watching the occasional car rush past under the orange globes that were the sodium streetlamps. She had her own secret, something that was causing her conflict. An innocuous looking letter lying on her kitchen work surface from the Maluku Islands; where the biggest anthropological find had been discovered. She had been invited to head the investigation, along with some other great forensic anthropologists. But she didn't want to go and leave Booth behind. Her head was aching as she tried to force some shred of memory to return, an undertaking that proved far easier said than done. She grabbed for it and it began to float into being, a room, a knife and… blood.

_The rohypnol was slowly beginning to fade, and she became more aware of her surroundings, the cold room and the horrific, terrifying smell of coppery blood that filled the air. She tried to move, but her wrists were tightly bound to a wooden chair, as were her ankles. Her wrists felt like they were bound with handcuffs, and the cold metal chains on her feet solidified that theory. She was gagged, bound and in pain. The room was icy, like winter in the arctic, and her thin dress shirt wasn't helping her retain body heat in the frigid surroundings. She became acutely aware of a clock ticking in the vicinity._

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick  
_

_Tick_

_Tick_

_As though it was counting down her time left to live even though she tried to banish that thought, but the macabre idea kept on filtering back through. She twisted her wrist and felt a cold metal pinch on her skin, and her bones ached under the tight clamp. She twisted again, hoping to feel some release, and became aware of a new sound in the silence. Footsteps. She turned her head so fast her neck cricked and hair covered her eyes._

'_Ah, Doctor Brennan, how lovely to see you again.' Then there was a slash across her arm and she felt a slow loss of consciousness, stabbed with pain, as a needle entered her arm and administered another dose of rohypnol._

She shivered at this idea, and tried to shove it down, but couldn't, knowing she had to inform Booth. She tried his mobile first, no answer. Then she tried his house phone, feeling bad about waking him up.

'Booth.' He didn't sound tired, so she let out a slow stream of breath and made herself speak.

'Booth, It's Brennan.'

'Bones, are you okay?'

'I… just I remembered something.'

'What?' As she explained she remembered the clock and how it terrified her.

'And there was this clock, just ticking in the darkness, all I could hear was this clock and it was driving me mad. But when I heard the footsteps I was trying so hard to hear the clock again, wanting to hear the reassuring tick. I couldn't though… all I could hear was the footsteps and the voice.' She finished, her hands shaking.

'Bones, I can be right there.'

'I don't want to put you out.'

'You won't be. Nothing matters more to me than your safety and happiness. I'll be there in ten.' He ended the call and she bit her lip, forcing herself to not cry again.

**oOo**

When Booth arrived, she was sitting in her kitchen, a mug of coffee clutched in one hand as she stared blankly ahead of her.

'Bones?' He asked, walking towards her.

'Booth… hi.' She sounded a little spaced out and dreamy, her hand holding the cup trembling and nearly spilling scolding coffee all over the work top. He dashed round and took it from her hand, placing it down on the work surface and putting an arm around her shoulders.

'How are you doing?'

'I… there was so much blood; I could smell it and see it. There was so much, it can't have been mine. I think someone else was hurt down there… hurt or killed, and I can't remember it at all.' She was shaking some more, and he could feel her tremors against his arm.

'You will.' He told her, and at that moment, he made his decision.

'Will I?'

'Of course you will.' She sat in silence for a moment, and then rested her head against his chest, just comforted by his closeness. He scanned a glance around, and noticed an envelope lying open next to her fridge. He caught him looking and gave him a weak smile.

'Biggest anthropological find ever. I'm not going, even though they asked me to head the investigation.'

'Why not?'

'Because of you.'

'Me?'

'I can't leave you.'

'You shouldn't give up the chance of a lifetime.'

'I want to.'

'I… for me?'

'For you, I'll stay.'

'I'll stay too.' He whispered under his breath, squeezing her shoulders fiercely as though someone was trying to take her from him

**Fast UD I know ^_^ To make up for not updating for five days after this (I have school, even though we're not really doing much now we've had our exams) So, lots of reviewsies for me. ^_^**


	8. Tuesday

**COME BACK USUAL REVIEWIERS! WHERE DID YOU GO? Where did you go? *sniffs* I'm trying, really, but I may need help on Americanising phrases (If Americanising is actually a word :L) and also I'm looking for a beta for some of my other stuff that I'm writing to try and cut down on my mistakes. An American beta preferably, so if you're interested, leave a line in your review. Thanks in advance ^_^ (Also, I'm mega obsessed with cinnamon rolls at the moment, they will be a recurring feature in this story – just so you know :P)**

Booth left again, a couple of minutes later with the front of his shirt damp and shaken to his soul. He slid into his car and fastened the seatbelt with a shaking hand, pushing it into place and trying to stop himself running back to her. Forcing his mind into a different direction, he looked down and saw the security tape lying on the dashboard, the top of it already dusty. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell, scrolling quickly through his contacts until he found the one he wanted and pressed the call button, raising the phone to his ear.

'Angela? I'm sorry… did I wake you?'

'No, I was awake anyway. What do you want Booth?'

'Are you at the lab?'

'I can be in about half an hour. Why? Have I missed some paperwork?' She asked him, laughing lightly at her own joke.

'No… I was wondering how you'd like to do some video work?'

'Video work? I can do my best, I'll meet you there in half an hour.' Angela ended the call and Booth heard the steady, monotonous burr of the dial tone on the other end of the phone. Weighing the heavy tape in one hand, he keyed the ignition and felt the familiar rumble of the engine shaking the chassis and he clasped his sweaty hands on the steering wheel. Her manoeuvred the car away from the curb with a practised flick of the hand and soon felt the straight road beneath the tyres as he sped towards the Jeffersonian, the tape lying innocuously in his lap.

After a while, he felt himself unwinding, as though he had previously been a coiled spring that was now loosening with the turn of some imaginary handle. He let a deep breath out and refilled his lungs, concentrating on breathing slowly until most of the tension had leeched out of his body. A little trick he'd picked up from the military, if you're tense you make mistakes, and in combat, mistakes cost lives. He shifted his leg slightly and felt the tape slide down it and crash on the carpeted floor of the shallow space where his feet were. Ignoring it, he pulled into the car park of the Jeffersonian and parked in Brennan's space, ignoring the signs for "Staff Only"; after all, he was practically staff there anyway. After parking and shoving Brennan's parking permit on the dashboard where it was clearly visible, he opened the door and knelt down, lifting the tape from the floor and carrying it loosely in one hand.

'Booth!' He spun round as he heard Angela's voice from behind him, and she greeted him with a smile.

'Angela, hi.'

'I thought it was you… but I wasn't sure.'

'It's me.' He smiled easily; glad to have a reason to smile in this time of darkness and pain.

'Well I know that now, silly.' She laughed at him and he joined in, walking towards the doorway of the Jeffersonian. 'So what did you want me to do?' She asked curiously, making a swipe for the tape held in his hand.

'I want you to check this, follow a certain car, I have other tapes that were delivered this morning, and I want a trail. Where it went, where it stopped, why and for how long. Think you can manage that?' He asked her, handing over the tape ceremoniously.

'Shouldn't be too hard, but it'll take a while. And I'll have a short temper when it's done, it'll probably take me all day.'

'Okay, thanks Angela… one more favour. Can you make a virtual map including times when you've done looking through the footage?'

'I can try; what's so important then?' She asked curiously, weighing the tape absent-mindedly in one hand.

'It's a long story.' He wasn't lying, as such, but he wasn't telling the full truth to her and he was sure she'd figure it out soon enough.

'I've got time.'

'Yes, time to work.' He ended the conversation and strode inside, heading to Angela's room, where he had stipulated the box of tapes be left by the mailman earlier. Angela frowned at his retreating back and followed him inside, noticing the cardboard box full of tapes placed on her desk next to her monitor.

'You'll need to show me what I'm following.' She told him tersely, sitting down in her chair with a sigh and starting up the computer with the familiar low buzz of the fan inside the hard-drive as she pressed in the round power button.

'Will do.' She slotted the first of the tapes into the video player and loaded up the software needed to do what Booth was asking. Directing the tape to her big screen, she picked up her control pad and sat on her desk, waiting for Booth to point out the correct… thing.

'What time?'

'About one on Saturday morning.' She sped up the video until it showed clearly 01:00:00 and pressed the play button. For twenty-four minutes and fifty three seconds they sat in silence until Booth suddenly leapt up and pointed to the screen.

'That it?' She asked him, peering at it. The figure looked familiar to her, but it was too grainy. Booth declined to mention that he only knew it was Brennan because of the dress shirt she had been wearing over black slacks, and that her hair had been deliciously ruffled when she'd left, ahem, ran out on him.

'That's it. Get going Angela, you'll do a great job.'

**oOo**

Booth nudged the door to Angela's office open with his hip, both hands occupied with holding a tray with two cups of coffee wedged in it and a bag of unhealthy, sugary, and delicious food.

'How's it going Angela?'

'Tedious, boring, painful, tiring, tedious, boring, tedious, boring have I said tedious already?'

'Yes, look, I'm sorry about this but it's important to me that you do this.'

'Why though?' She asked, gratefully accepting the Styrofoam cup of coffee with a Starbucks logo on the side from Booth along with a cinnamon roll wrapped loosely in greaseproof paper.

'Why is it important?' He floundered for a second, racking his brain for an answer; when none came he put on a smile and brushed the question aside. 'Because it is.'

'That's not an answer, Booth. Tell me or I'm not finishing the job; and being the only one that can, think carefully before you answer.' She smiled sweetly and took a sip of the coffee and trying simultaneously to take a bite out of the cinnamon roll.

'Um… this is for a friend…'

'Who?'

'Does it matter?'

'Yes.'

'Urmm… no one you know.' He lied hopefully, but Angela saw through him right away.

'Who is it. And I know them so you better not lie to me.' She fixed him with such a steely glare, that even the ex-military man began to sweat and his gaze darted all around the room. His palms felt uncomfortably damp and sticky, and he let his gaze rest on her screen, the picture frozen of the car in the middle of the street.

'It's… no-one.' He muttered miserably, knowing she would worm it out of him anyway.

'Booth. She commanded.

'How are you so scary?' He asked her, the question just bursting out.

'Because I'm pure evil. Now spill.' She placed her hands squarely on her hips and turned to face him, glaring pointedly at him until she felt sure he would crack.

'Brennan.' The word was whispered as though to say it was a crime, and she looked askance at him, unsure if she'd heard correctly.

'Brennan? My Brennan?' She echoed, her voice dull and her eyes rapidly filling up.

'You're not so evil crying.' He told her triumphantly, grateful for small mercies and the small sense of happiness of having one over on her. 'And yes, our Brennan.' He told her as she glared at him. She noticed the "our" and pounced.

'"Our" Brennan?' She questioned him the same way he imagined her interrogating a meek Hodgins when he came in, reeking of alcohol and claiming that he hadn't gone to a bar.

'We both work with her!' He covered his slip desperately, clinging onto some shreds of self-respect.

'We do, but I've never heard you say "our" when you're describing her.'

'Well I did this time, what's the problem?'

'She's not our… she's just Brennan.'

'Well she is our, I mean, we work with her and see her on a day-to-day basis, so she is ours.'

'She's her own person Booth, and although she's my best friend, she's not mine; so she is definitely not "our".' Angela finished triumphantly, smiling at him until he blushed and looked away.

'Okay, not our. It's Brennan.'

'How do you know?'

'I just… just… it doesn't matter.'

'It does, evidently, but I'll let it drop.' She told him, finishing her coffee and screwing up the wrapper from her cinnamon roll into a ball and tossing it deftly at his head. He ducked and it rebounded off the wall and hit his jacket; scowling, he scooped it into one hand and tossed it at her wastepaper basket, the ball bouncing off the rim and into the wire-meshed container.

'Nice shot Seeley.'

'Thanks.' He told her, a mantra running through his mind: "Why… do I let her get to me?" and then: "Brennan's gonna kill me."

**oOo**

Brennan shuddered awake, slumped on the table with her hair spilling all over the tabletop where she had been sitting when Booth had left. Her coffee cup had dropped from her hand and was now shattered into a hundred or more pieces on the floor, the cold coffee drying slowly in a puddle under the table. She looked down at the puddle on the floor and gave a small sigh at the thought of cleaning it up, and rose, a little unsteadily, to her feet. Her ankle was throbbing, a dull, rhythmic pain that flashed in time with her heartbeat. Her cell began to ring, and, nearly bursting into tears of frustration, she answered it.

'Brennan.'

'Bones, hey.' His voice was soft and gentle, and she felt herself being wrapped in the sound of it, the warm velvety tones comforting her.

'Hello Booth, why are you calling me?'

'I have a problem.'

'Problem?'

'Angela.' He took a deep breath in; she could hear it on the other end of the line and steeled herself for the worst.

'What happened? What's happened to Ange?'

'No, it's not that. She knows.'

'Knows what? That I got raped? Well thanks Booth, I guess it was a mistake to trust you in the first place.' She snapped and slammed her phone shut, tears pouring down her cheeks and dropping like rain to the floor. She cried until she thought, as wrong as the metaphor is, that her heart would break. She wished she hadn't told him, wished he'd never called her and that she'd never gone to dinner with him; none of this would have happened. Her phone rang again, and she would have dearly liked to smash it against the wall when she saw the caller ID, but they ha to work together after this, and she did need her phone.

'Brennan.' She spoke guardedly and tersely, not allowing her emotions to blind her.

'Bones, I'm sorry I told her, she kept on and on at me until I cracked. I didn't mean to I swear on my life and Parker's.'

'I believe you.'

'So look, Angela doesn't know what happened, but she does know it's you, but she's been an amazing help to me here. Come to the lab and see, she just left so you don't have to worry.'

'If you're sure…'

'I'm sure.' He told her and ended the call, leaving her staring at her phone until it jumped in her hand with an impatient text from Booth on it.

"Where are you? Hurry up and get here. Booth x"

**oOo**

Brennan arrived at the lab, clean, carefully dressed and with her hair loose around her face, flicking softly around her delicate jaw line.

'Bones, this is important.' He told her, making her jump and spin round, already poised for fight or flight, the adrenaline racing through her body. 'Whoa!' He held up his hands and watched her visibly relax before continuing. 'Angela did a map of where the car went and for how long. The longest it stopped was for three hours in a warehouse. He took you out of the car and came back to the car with you three hours later. I think that's the first stop for finding some information.' He declared triumphantly, a glimmer of anger mingled with hope kindled in his eyes.

'So do I, shall we go or have you forgotten the way?' She asked him jokingly, the adrenaline rush fading and leaving a queer, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that had her relatively weak at the knees.

'I know the way! Don't you ever doubt my driving skills!'

'I was kidding.' She replied evenly, fighting back the weakness that the loss of adrenaline was forcing upon her.

'I know you were.' He told her, slipping his hand easily over hers and holding it tightly in the warmth, the calluses from his gun rough against her skin. With one finger of her free hand, she traced the tattoo on the inside of his wrist.

'What do they mean?' She asked, too tired to dredge her memory for the answer.

'One means "soul", and the other means "destiny".' He told her quietly, leading her out into the parking lot.

'Soul is, I presume, for your Catholic faith; and destiny? Well that seems a real Booth-like thing I guess.'

'"Booth-like"?' He queried, raising an eyebrow

'Like you… I can't explain it.'

'Uh huh… You can't explain it? That must be the only thing in the world you can't.' He teased her gently, earning a slap on the side of the head.

'Just because you're right doesn't mean I want to hear it.' Booth grinned. He led her out into the sun, towards his car. She let go of his hand and swung herself into the passenger seat, clasping her hands loosely in her lap and watching him start the car, the sunlight glinting off the polished metal of the ignition key. The car rumbled slowly into life and they pulled away, heading towards the warehouse. When they got there, the dust on the road eddied up with the wind from the tyres, and the both raised a hand to shield their eyes as the jumped from the car.

'Ready?' He asked her, not daring to put his arm around her.

'Ready.' She confirmed as he fumbled with a key ring with several large keys on it.

'It's this one, follow me.' He told her, and she complied, sliding her hand into his. He unlocked the door and stepped inside the cool, dark interior, raising his slim torch to shoulder height and pointing it around the room.

'Oh… oh no.' Brennan breathed, before the room began to spin and she blacked out.

**What did you think? Retuuuuurn to meeeee and review ^_^ Love youuuu x**


	9. Tuesday Evening

**I have returned ^_^ Love and huggles and cookies for everyone who reviews this. But yay thank you for your support so far, without it I'd still be a recluse in my bedroom…oh wait… I'm writing this in my bedroom ¬¬ (And I don't know if the Saint Barbara bit is right, but I googled it. And, all B&B fans, I know you're gonna hate me for this, but it has purpose – and there's also cuteness)**

'Bones?' Booth shook her shoulder gently, rubbing her cool, clammy skin with his warm hands. No response. He rocked back on his knees and looked down at her prone form, her chest rising and falling swiftly. He noticed how paper-white she was, her skin nearly translucent in the dim light of the warehouse. Taking a deep breath in, he shook her shoulder with a gentle firmness, harder than before. She gave a quiet mumble and feebly raised a hand in an effort to push him away.

'Bones?' Again, he shook her shoulder until she opened her grey eyes and focussed them on his face, slowly moving a hand to rub the back of her head where a lump was rapidly forming.

'Wh-what happened?' She asked him, grimacing as her fingers probed the rapidly swelling lump at the base of her skull.

'You fainted.' He informed her, pulling her gently to her feet, his hand lingering on her wrist slightly longer than necessary.

'I… I know.' She told him, rubbing her arm where it had hit the floor with force, and massaging her ankle, which had retwisted as she'd fallen.

'I'm sorry I didn't catch you.' He muttered, his gaze raking her over, checking her ankle and arm with his eyes.

'It's fine.' She smiled with the last vestiges of good mood, her eyes watering as sensation came flooding back to her extremities. There was a tingling in her fingers, like pins and needles, and she flexed them gingerly, the tingling intensifying as the blood flow made its way round her body.

'Are you sure? You went down pretty hard.' He stood close to her for a second, gingerly feeling the lump that had risen under her hair.

'Yes, I'm fine.' She pushed him off and took a deep breath in, clicking his torch on and shining it into the gloom. Her breath caught in her throat as she swung the narrow beam of light over the horrific scene in front of them. Even Booth had to stifle a gasp as the telltale coppery smell filtered into his nostrils and filled them with the cloying stink that was unmistakeable.

'Blood? Bones, I think this is the right place.'

'It is… and we really shouldn't be walking in here because it's a crime scene, but I need to know.' She told him, projecting force into her voice, ashamed at her fainting earlier.

'Okay, okay.' He held his hands up in defeat and stepped back, keeping a careful eye on her as she made her way cautiously through the blackness. When it seemed as though the dark was going to swallow her up, he carefully move round the walls, feeling for a box that would house a light switch. His hand came across it rather suddenly and extremely painfully. 'Ouch!'

'Booth? What happened?'

'I hit my hand.'

'Oh…' She called, taking in deep breaths to slow her racing heartbeat that had been brought on by Booth's startled shout of pain. She gripped the torch tighter in her hand, forcing the shaking in her wrist to stop, the beam of light bouncing slightly. She felt something tug at her ankles and let out a squeak, dropping the torch to the floor, the light flashing crazily before going out.

'Bones? You okay?'

'Y-yeah, but I broke the torch and I can't see anything.'

'Stay put for just a second.' Booth raised his hand from the corner of the box and felt on the face of it, a raised switch found swiftly underneath the palm of his hand. He pressed down and light flooded the warehouse, illuminating the scene even more. He saw Brennan, her face paper-white, staring at her ankle with a scandalized expression on her face.

'B-Booth…' He looked down at the floor and felt bile rise in his throat at the sight.

'Stay there.' He told her firmly, edging his way around the pool of blood that had dried, thick and sticky in front of him. She nodded once, and he made his way cautiously to her, avoiding the blood. He was a couple of metres from her when he saw clearly what was by her ankle: a hand. A severed hand, brushing her ankle as she stood, trying to stay professional.

'That's… fascinating, although I must admit, I'm not used to it being covered in flesh.' She attempted bravely, her voice sounding hollow and feeble in the echoing, cavernous space.

'Fascinating? I find it disgusting; like I do most of the things you bring back to the lab to be frank.' Booth told her, staring at the hand with an expression of revolt and horror on his face.

'Well… you should be used to it by now.' She told him, moving gingerly away.

'I know, is there any other room here? Like somewhere where they would have… dismembered this… thing.' The look of revulsion on his face was clear, and Brennan found herself becoming irritated.

'Booth, you've told me so often to try to empathise with people; this hand was a person! It could have been me, this person gave their life to save mine, and their selflessness ensured that I would live. So please… stop.' Booth was taken aback by her outburst, the suddenness and passion of it taking him completely by surprise.

'Okay, I'm sorry, they saved your life and I'm so grateful to them.'

'You should be, everyone's scared of death, it's rational and human. But this person, someone I didn't even know, gave up their life for mine; overcoming than the fear that we all have embedded deep inside us.' She told him, staring down at the blood on the floor sadly, almost longingly. Booth slowly crossed himself and crouched down on the floor, staring at the delicate pink skin of the palm. The hand itself was balled into a fist, a gold chain running from the curled over fingers and coiling untidily on the concrete floor.

'Bones? What do you think of this?' He asked her, pointing to the chain as it glinted, dulled by the blood, on the grey, icy concrete. She crouched beside him, resisting the urge to probe the hand and make it release what was clutched so tightly in the fist.

'I think it was important to them, very important or treasured, so important that they remembered it on the point of death. But why it wasn't stolen… that escapes me.'

'It wasn't stolen… then it must be worthless to anyone else.'

'Nothing is worthless, look at the chain, it's gold so that would be of some worth.'

'Well I suppose so.' Booth looked askance at it again, before digging in his pocket for his cell phone.

'What are you doing?'

'Phoning the FBI crime lab.'

**oOo**

The crime lab was a tropical storm, the flashes if the camera bulbs the lightning; the booming voice of the man in charge the thunder; and the winds the people who were rushing around collecting and bagging evidence whilst Brennan and Booth stood on the sidelines, seemingly in the eye of the storm.

'You okay?' Booth asked her as she stared out at the team, rushing about and collecting evidence as fast as they could.

'What? Oh, yeah.' She told him, dazed slightly by the efficiency of the team in front of her, taking absolutely no notice of either of them. A man walked past, clutching a bag with a chain inside it, a pendant hanging on the end of it in the sealed evidence bag. 'Wait.' Brennan placed her hand on the man's arm, startling him for a moment.

'Can I help you?'

'Yes, can I see what's in the bag?'

'I don't…'

'Please.' He reluctantly handed it to her and she peered at it until Booth whispered softly in her ear, his voice trembling.

'Saint Barbara, the patron saint of protection from harm.'

'Did them good.' Brennan muttered, releasing her hold on the bag and allowing the crime scene investigator to pack it into boxes; ready to be sent to the lab. She knew she was being irrational, but since that night with Booth she seemed to have become even more irrational around everybody else. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, rationalise, and continued.

'Mmm…' Booth muttered softly, jarring on her nerves.

'Booth, this can't work, not now.'

'What can't work?' He stepped back, staring at her.

'This, us. I think we need to maintain a purely professional relationship, at least until this case is over, and after that… if you still want this to happen, I think it could work.' She took a deep breath and stared at her fingers, her eyes brimming.

'So what… you're breaking up with me?'

'We weren't ever a couple.'

'Okay, so you're telling me we need to stay professional until this case is over, and then if I still want you, which I will, to try then?' His voice was incredulous, and loud, something that she didn't want.

'I guess… don't be like this Booth, I want this, but not right now.'

'So when? A month? A year? A decade? Stop playing with me.'

'Booth please! I just need some time, I still want to work with you and be your partner, and when I'm ready I want to be something more. You have to respect that it's my decision on this, and I really wish things had turned out different so I wouldn't have to do this.'

'Like you not making the decision to sleep with me?'

'No, we were drunk, and to be honest I enjoyed it, but Booth, please, I need space for a while.' Booth nodded slowly, his heart aching.

'Okay. Okay, if it makes you happy despite making me sad. Okay.' She closed her eyes for a second, pushing away all the hurt and replacing it with her rational thoughts and extraordinary willpower. For some reason, things kept coming back to her.

Their first kiss under the mistletoe, Caroline watching. She had enjoyed it way more than she should have. The feel of his solid form beneath her hands, the lapels of his coat clutched tightly in her hands as she pulled him to her. His tongue gently invading her mouth, gently probing and stealing her gum. It made her laugh, looking back, on both their reactions.

When they had found her mother in limbo, the way he was there for her, never alerting her properly to his presence, but by the gentle words and silences when she felt as if she was going to burst into tears.

When he had saved her from the madman, despite having fractured ribs from being crushed by her exploding fridge in her apartment hours earlier.

The time in Sweets' office when she'd cried over the foster home and the smashed dish. How they'd punished her. His reaction, the gentle, kind words he'd talked to her, Sweets just listening.

He had become almost family to her. And you don't push family away.

**oOo**

Booth drove, as usual, but more reckless this time, his hands clamped tightly down on the steering wheel. He never so much as glanced at Brennan as she sat, hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

'Booth.' her voice was strained.

'What?'

'Where else did they go with me?'

'Not far from here.'

'Where are we going?' She asked him timidly, raising her eyes from her lap.

'There, look, Bones, I'm sorry I'm being cold like this. I'm just, confused okay? I'm going to sort out our professional relationship before I sort out our personal one. You were right.' He offered her a weak smile.

'I usually am.' She smiled, hoping the brief lightening in the atmosphere would continue.

'Well duh. Otherwise you wouldn't be you.' He offered her another smile and she felt herself smile against her will.

'Well I am me, and that means I'm right? I can live with that.' She twiddled her thumbs until he pulled to a sharp halt.

'Ready for this?' He found himself repeating the words he'd said only hours before.

'Sure.' Her words were drowned out by a thunderclap and the sky suddenly opened. Rain thundered down onto the bonnet and the window, heavy drops that fell in an unending torrent, the ground becoming soaked almost immediately. 'No. I'm not going out in that.' She settled back in her seat, unconsciously gripping the leather in both hands.

'Why not? It's just rain.'

'It's not the rain.' She told him through clenched teeth.

'Then what is it? I can't believe you'd be scared of thunder.'

'Not the thunder either.'

'Lightning? _You _are afraid of lightning?'

'Everyone's afraid of something- I just happen to be terrified of thunderstorms, and being buried alive.' She said the last part quietly to herself, flinching as lightning lit up the sky in a bright flash of white light.

'Why?'

'I don't know, I've just never liked it.' She shivered again as thunder rolled across the sky, bringing with it another flash of lightning, the forks clearly visible. She gritted her teeth and tried to force the shuddering to stop, another flash lighting up the sky. Booth sensed her discomfort and unbuckled hit seatbelt, clambering over into the back seat. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

'Don't leave me.'

'I'm not.'

'You have.' She told him with the most force she could muster, which is to say not much.

'Come into the back with me, I'm no psychologist but I think you just need someone to make you feel like you're protected from this.'

'I would, but I don't want anything to happen.'

'It won't.' He moved over and made room for her, crossing his arms as she unbuckled her seatbelt with trembling fingers and slithered into the backseat, her eyes wide and frightened. She was halfway into the back when another thunderclap rang out; startled, she skittered over the gap and landed heavily on the seat, hands over her eyes.

'I don't like this.' She muttered, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into his arms.

'I know you don't.' he muttered soothingly into her hair, stroking her arm under the jacket she was wearing, cradling her in his arms, ignoring her occasional tremors as thunder rolled over again, and lightning flashed over the interior of the car. He held her tightly in his arms as the rain pounded outside and thunder continued its slow rolling over them, interrupted by brief flashes of lightning. He would be quite content to hold her there in his arms forever.

**Reviewsies? :)**


	10. Wednesday

**Yay for thunderstorms bringing people together. And I'm so sorry, I know they're meant to be, but I have a plan in mind which is very cute and simultaneously sad :P And I know it's been so long, but I'm updating now :) When I wrote the flashback I was in a little depressed time, just argued with my mother, some other stuff.**

Night had fallen, the streetlights were on, the rain had slowly begun to wane into a drizzle and the thunder had rolled on away from them. The lightning has stopped splitting the sky, and the clouds were scudding slowly out of sight, hurried slightly by the gentle breeze that was shunting them awkwardly across the night. Brennan was lying heavily in his arms, her breathing slow and regular, deep and gentle as she slept. The thunder had rattled her more than she cared to admit, anyone, even someone who didn't know her could see that. But that was the point, Booth did know her, more than most people; Angela included. He shifted slightly, moving her warm, sleeping body off of his arms so that he could use them. With difficulty, he dug around in his pocket for his cell phone, making sure his hand didn't dig into her and wake her up.

She was shattered, she was distressed, and right now all she needed was a friend. He could understand why she had 'dumped' him, even though they never really were a couple in the first place. He could be that for her, he could be enough for her until she needed him to be more, he would care for her. He cast a gentle look at her, his eyes taking in the dark purple bruising on her cheek, the black rings under her eyes so dark against her pale skin. Her naturally lustrous hair was a tangled mess, lank and unwashed. He realised just how bad she looked, how much this had taken its toll on her; sapped her strength and taken away the essence of who she was. He gently let a hand stroke her hair, mindful of the bruise at the base of her skull and the bruises resting heavily on her cheekbones, the skin around them puffy and dark; ringed with a red circle. Her skin was flushed, blotched where she had cried out in fright at the thunder. He let his lips brush her forehead lightly, not alerting her to it and careful not to wake her. It failed.

'B-Booth?' She asked, her eyelids fluttering as she pushed herself off his lap with speed that would have rivalled a cheetah.

'Hey, wakey wakey Bones, I didn't want to wake you because I know you haven't had much sleep lately, and you were so scared.'

'Has the storm passed yet?'

'What? Oh, yeah.'

'Was I pathetic? I'm sorry if I was, but thunderstorms to me are like spiders to someone else.'

'You weren't, it's understandable.'

'Thank you… do you know what the time is?'

'Yeah I do, it's nearly midnight.'

'Midnight?' An expression of mingled shock and horror appeared on her face.

'Yes, shall I get you home?'

'If you wouldn't mind, I'm not tired any more, but I want to go home.'

'If you go home, get some sleep, because otherwise it will take you ages to get over this and get back to a normal sleep pattern; get some sleep and I'll get you in the morning to look at where we are because it's too late.'

'Okay, Booth, thank you. I know I can be hard to manage and a little demanding, but thank you for being here for me.' Brennan smiled at him as he clambered into the front seat, his back to her so she wouldn't see him struggling to refrain from crying. She clasped her hands loosely together in the front seat, watching out of the corner of her eye how tight he was gripping the steering wheel.

oOo

Dawn broke. The clouds tinged orange and pink with the light of the steadily rising sun, the mist of the night vanishing into nothingness. Dew filmed the grass on the ground far below the high-rise apartment building. Brennan had watched the night fade into the cold light of dawn, and now watching the sunrise, she felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

_A dark room. Night. She registered vague scratching sounds. Behind her? In front of her? Left? Right? She tried to turn her head. Pain flared and she winced, drawing tears into her eyes. Her wrists were raw and scraped, rope holding them tightly to the hard chair she was sitting in. A quiet whimpering drew her attention, and she tried vainly to peer into the gloom. There was no gag over her mouth, so she whispered in the general direction of where the sound had come from._

'_Hello? Can you hear me?' The whimpering stopped for a while, and all she could hear was the laboured sawing of her breath in her chest. And then, minutely, something that caught her attention._

'_Yes. I hear you.' The voice was trembling, frightened, but not stuttering._

'_What happened?' She tried to steady her voice, aware that it was too loud in the stillness._

'_I don't know.' A sniff, a sob. 'I just had a drink and woke up here.' _

'_The same happened to me.' Brennan felt a sudden urge to tell this complete stranger, who, she could not even see, about one time in a foster home. She had forgotten which one. But she didn't, she kept quiet and bit her lip; awaiting the cruel voice to sound again. The scared voice came again, ringing in the silence._

'_So what's your name?' Polite conversation._

'_Temperance.' Brennan said, dropping her voice so that the silence wasn't broken as much. 'And yours?'_

'_Does it matter? I think they're going to kill me anyway.' Brennan felt a chill roll down her spine at these words._

'_Why would you think that?'_

'_They told me.' The voice sounded stronger and surer._

'_Told you?'_

'_Yes. They said to me: "We will kill you." But I don't really mind.'_

'_Why not?' _

'_What's to live for?' There was no answer to that, and Brennan resumed staring painfully through the gloom at the wall in front of her. There was a crunch, as if of footsteps, and she turned her head painfully to the side, unable to see further than her nose. Silence descended again, but this time Brennan felt as though she was balanced on knifepoint, as if a move would send it over. She was scared, and was still digesting the words: 'What's to live for?' She realised that she had something to live for. Booth. Booth was why she wanted to get out of here, it didn't matter how much of an ass he was being right now, and the mistakes he'd made that morning. It didn't matter any more. He was the reason she was, the reason she had become looser and easier to be around. And she would fight to stay with him, fight to win; and if she didn't, she wouldn't go down without being thoroughly exhausted and overpowered. She knew exactly how strong she was, and she knew how much force was required to break a man's wrist. She could do it easily. If she wasn't tied up or shaking loose the effects of a strong date-rape drug in her system._

'_Did you hear that?' The frightened voice from the corner._

'_What?'_

'_The crunch. It sounded like footsteps.'_

'_I did hear it, thank you for reminding me.'_

'_Of what?' Hysteria was rising in the voice and Brennan took a deep breath to calm herself._

'_Just… I don't need to be reminded of my impending doom.' In truth it was reminding her of the time when the man had tied her wrists, hung them from a hook and threatened her with a gun._

'_Sorry.' It was petulant. Silence swamped them again, and Brennan found that she was on edge again, peering into the corners, reluctant to give up on what she might see. There was a creak of a hinge and she snapped her head round, her neck cricking and pain exploding across her face and by her eyes, nearly causing her to black out._

'_Doctor Brennan.' It wasn't a man's voice, it was a woman. She assumed, in a split-second, that the man had lifted her and been the brawn, but this woman? Now she was the brains. Brennan felt her breath on the back of her neck and her skin crawled, a highly unpleasant experience when you're tied to a cold chair in the middle of a warehouse._

'_Can I help you?' She kept her voice level, stopping the fluctuations._

'_Yes.' A hand suddenly twisted into her hair, talons scraping her scalp and tugging at the strands with unwarranted fury. Brennan let out a pitiful scream, quickly closing her mouth to stop another sound escaping. _

'_Let go!' Brennan forced out, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to block out the pain._

'_No.' A low hiss, the gleam of sharpened silver. Pain. A scream. Blood splattering on the floor. The knife clattering to the ground. Silence._

She shivered and pushed away from the window, sitting in the middle of her apartment, knees drawn up to her chest. Reaching her arm our for a pen she scrawled down her recollections on a spare piece of paper, tossing them out of sight with a clatter as soon as she was done, her hand trembling and sweating as she laced her fingers together. Her arm started to ache, the cut opening up again and warm, wet blood soaking the thin bandage that covered it. The salty flow caught her attention when she flexed and her arm was soaked. Carefully, she removed her shirt and unwound the bandage; leaving it on the side as she went to apply a fresh one from the stack the hospital had provided her with. That done, legs shaking, palms sweating, and feeling sick to her stomach with the pain, she straightened up and pulled her shirt back on. Her cell suddenly started to ring, pulling her from her state of catatonia.

'Brennan.'

'Hey Bones.' Booth.

'Booth, can I help you?'

'How much sleep did you get?' Brennan thought for a second, took a moment to compose herself, and then told him brightly:

'Loads! I feel so much better.' Gritting her teeth, she heard his reply and shoved it into her mind. 'Booth.' She interrupted suddenly. 'I had a flash of memory, quite a bit slipped through, get over here.'

'Will do.' He hung up on her and she tossed her cell to one side and stood up, aware of the huge rings beneath her eyes that were reminiscent of fresh bruises. Dragging herself into her bedroom, she rummaged around on her dresser until she found what she was looking for. A pot of concealer, barely used with the top covered in a thin film of dust. She slowly unscrewed it, revealing a liquid that blended perfectly in with her skin tone. She dabbed a finger into it, and began to apply it to the circles in gentle circles, the make-up blending in with her skin as she massaged it in, the circles vanishing under her careful hand. Smiling wanly in the mirror, not even fooling herself, she opened a powder and dabbed it over her face, the concealer vanishing beneath the powder, which gave her the vaguest semblance of someone healthy and who had had a decent amount of sleep. Her doorbell rang as she was changing, and without thinking, she opened it shirtless, still wearing a bra, but suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze.

'Bones.' He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her like he'd never let her go, feel her smooth, tanned skin under his palms; so he did.

'What are you doing?' She sounded worried, but didn't try to force him off.

'I was holding you.'

'I can stay upright by myself.' She spat, and then saw the look on his face and tried desperately to backtrack. 'I mean, I can stand… but I…'

'Let me hold you.' He begged her, not a question in the words but in his eyes. 'Please?' He pressed, knowing she was going to say no.

'I…' The feel of his hands around her was intoxicating, the strength in his arms so secure and the way he held her so familiar. They were made for each other, but she could never admit it to herself, to him, to anyone. The pressure he was exerting on her kept her feeling secure and safe with him, the way his hands pressed against her and held her steady. 'Love you.' She whispered to herself so that she was sure he couldn't hear. He didn't hear, and she stared at him, her heart aching, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to say it louder; physically couldn't say those three words louder than a whisper. She tilted her head away as a tear rolled down her cheek and into her hair. Mindful of her make up, she wiped a hand over her face and dashed away the tears. Booth wanted her, his Bones, wanted her more than anything right now; even the air was different when she wasn't there. Breathing was harder when she wasn't there to breathe with him, wasn't there to talk scientific babble whilst explaining a confusing murder. He liked it when she talked science, liked having to work things out. Aware he was holding her tightly, he suddenly let go, abruptly ruining the spark that was beginning to reignite between them. Brennan looked at him, her face flushed from the heat of the moment, the white button up shirt clutched in one hand. She shrugged it on, fingers fumbling over the buttons as she tried in vain to fasten it at top speed.

'Want some help?' He asked her, his mouth so close to hers that his breath moved her hair in gentle ruffles.

'Please.' Her voice was quiet so he had to lean in to hear it, but he crouched slightly, fingers flying over the buttons and fastening them deftly.

'I prefer you out of it though.' He told her absent-mindedly, unaware of what he was saying until he looked up and saw the expression on her face. 'Oh God! Was I just thinking out loud again?' He looked shocked, but she didn't bat an eyelid, the expression partway between amusement and horror on her face.

'I know you do.' He straightened up again, resting his fingers on her lapels, as if there were buttons there as well.

'And you're just going to go back to work? As if there isn't anything between us?'

'If I have to. Haven't we already have this conversation?'

'Yes, but the first time it ended in you crushing me.' Booth tried not to guilt trip her, but the words just kind of slipped out.

'And this time?'

'Don't make the same mistake twice.' He warned her and moved away, heading towards her kitchen.

'I wont.' She told herself. 'This time I won't hurt you.'

**What did you think? Reviews are appreciated (:**


	11. Thursday

**Thank you to Lisbon94 and Alice Haru for being constant, I loooooove you (: The memories are coming back now… faster than ever! So we may not make it to one hundred reviews *sob* Please enjoy this next chapter (: And I'm so bad at staving off romance… sorry… And yes, I did bring in the team from CSI Vegas, so minor crossover chapter :P**

**Just a small reminder I own nothing… DAMN.**

Brennan watched as Booth walked away, hands embedded deep in his pockets as he headed towards her fridge, one thought in mind.

'I love you.' She whispered as he walked away, her voice little more than a breath. Tears had gathered in her eyes and were threatening to fall, tears for what she had let go and what she was about to give up. She would lay down her life for him, give everything for him, everything but tell him she loved him. She stood there, her hands hanging aimlessly by her side, fingers clenched around a scrap of paper. She dropped it on the floor, her fingers numb. Kneeling down slowly, she swept it into her hand and dropped it into the pocket of her slacks, forgetting about it almost instantly.

'Booth?'

'Bones?' His voice was cold, a soda clutched in one hand with perspiration from the bottle rolling down it, the white condensation frosting the bottle.

'Should we go?'

'Go where?'

'The… warehouse…' She trailed off and looked at the floor, her grey eyes lidded and closed, tears welling up beneath them.

'Sure.' He was flippant, cool and blasé, basically ignoring her. She followed him towards her door, closing it with one hand, the door clicking to under her palm. He had carried on, refusing to acknowledge her and how she was lagging. She was walking in a haze of tiredness, lights too bright, sound to loud, and tiredness was clouding her mind. She didn't hurry behind him, continuing her slow walk to his car, opening the hot black door. The ground was still damp from the rainfall from the night before, and her feet slipped slightly as she climbed in, agonising her sprained ankle.

'Talk to me.' She begged, crossing her ankles self-consciously.

'What's to say?'

'When I was in the warehouse…' She began, but he cut her off.

'Let me stop you right there.'

'Why?'

'Because it's not important any more.'

'What happened to me!' She was angry, and she raised a hand to slap him but found she couldn't, she physically couldn't make herself do it.

'No… I… I don't know why I said that Bones…'

'No neither do I.'

'So tell me.'

'I…' She relented and told him, her hands clenching the folds of her clothes. 'When I thought I was going to do… I wondered what was to live for. And I realised what was to live for, you.'

'Me?' He looked affronted and then smiled, relaxing slightly.

'You. I can't say what I want to say… but I hope that you can understand through what I'm saying.'

'Bones… I don't get it. You what… I'm the reason you live?'

'I… yes.' Brennan hid her face with her hair, her hands shaking and her eyes closed. She heard nothing from him after that, nothing but the steady thrumming of the engine and the indicator flashing every now and again. The silence was uncomfortable, and not for the first time did she wish she'd never said anything to him.

'Bones?' She nodded once, curtly, shaking loose some tears from her eyes. 'Are you okay?' She nodded sadly, squeezing her eyes tightly closed, even though she knew that would make her cry more.

'I'm fine. Fine.' She assured him, turning her head away from him, a tear slowly running down her cheek, sparkling like a diamond on her skin.

'I don't believe you.'

'You don't have to.' She told him, her body shaking slightly.

'Yes, I do. Because otherwise I would exhibit bad trust in you.'

'What, if you believed me every time I lied about being okay?' She looked at him, really looked, and saw him nod.

'Yeah I guess. Bones.' He pulled up to the kerb and parked, turning in his seat to face her, a serious expression on his face. 'Listen to me. I know we aren't a couple, and to be honest I don't know what to say to this, you've pretty much shaken me up right now.'

'How have I? All I know is that when I was in that place… all I could think of was you! Every last moment we spent together over the past six years! Every hug, every touch, and every single intimate moment that wasn't intimate until I was thinking about it. And now, every kiss that we ever shared, including our first kiss ever. And right now… I don't know, I just…' She trailed off.

'Bones?' Booth asked, leaning towards her to stare into her eyes, losing himself in the clear grey as she felt herself falling into the deep pools of chocolate brown.

'Yes?'

'Shut up…' She looked at him, affronted, but in a dazed sort of way.

'Why?'

'And kiss me…'

**oOo**

Booth and Brennan arrived at the warehouse before the Crime Scene Team, pulling up and parking in one smooth motion. Brennan was shaking, adrenaline still shooting through her body and making her muscles spasm as she tried to remain still. Sweat was pouring down her sides, dampening the thin material of her shirt and turning it slightly darker.

'Are you all right?' Booth asked her, turning on the charm as he turned to face her, brown eyes boring into her grey ones.

'Why wouldn't I be?' She smiled at him, and with the grace of a dancer, leapt from the car, landing lightly on her feet. He was left there, shaking his head with a smile playing on his lips before following her less gracefully on the path to the ground.

'No reason.' He leaned against the door, his back pressing against the door handle, digging into the sensitive flesh of his spine. She pulled herself up onto the bonnet, resting her back more comfortably against the windscreen, legs propped up on the blisteringly hot surface. Booth chanced a smile and moved around, pulling himself up onto the bonnet with her, resting against the windscreen.

'Remember the last time we did this?' She asked him softly, folding both hands over her stomach without realising it.

'I do, we watched the stars, and for aliens.'

'You watched for aliens, I watched the stars.' She corrected him, closing her eyes for a moment, the haze of tiredness threatening to carry her away.

'Yes, I remember.' He watched white clouds drift past, his childish mind forming shapes in them. 'Hey, look at that.' He nudged her awake and she focussed on the cloud his finger was directing her too, smiling.

'And how childish are you?' She asked him, closing her eyes against the suggestively shaped cloud.

'Extremely, you know that.' He grinned at her, but realised almost immediately that she couldn't see, and placed an arm tentatively over her shoulders. 'Are you sure you got enough sleep?' She rolled over and opened her eyes, a yawn cracking her jaw.

'Hmm? Yes! Yes, I did.' She placed a hand over her mouth and yawned again, laughing through her yawn.

'Are you sure?'

'No.' She admitted, reclining back against the windscreen again. Booth relaxed again, keeping an eye out for the Crime Scene vans, conscious of how precious the moments he would have with Brennan during this case were. He shuffled back again, removing his arm from her shoulders and pressing back against the black, blistering paintwork.

'Agent Booth!' He shot up as he heard the shout and rolled right off the bonnet of the car and onto the dusty gravel-covered ground. He jumped to his feet and dusted himself off, grimacing as he realised he had grazed the skin of his back.

'Hi.' He offered his hand. 'You going in first?'

'Sure.' The man shook the proffered hand and called his team to order. 'Feel free to come in when we shout.' Booth nodded and leaned back against the radiator of the car, rubbing the tattoos on the inside of his wrist, tracing the thick black lines that made up the Chinese symbols. The Crime Scene team made their way in as Booth watched, keeping one eye on Brennan as she dozed. He heard a shout from the leader, some older man with a beard called Grissom or something. Booth shook her gently and prevented her from doing the exact thing he did by catching her as she fell. She stood beside him for a second, gathering her bearings and getting her balance back before following him inside.

The air in the warehouse was pleasantly cool, but there was a stench that pervaded everywhere, the heavy coppery scent of blood. Brennan felt her head begin to swim and for the first time in her life, had to step outside to get some air before continuing.

'Bone, are you okay? Because I can't have you, you know…' He mimed fainting and she shot him an icy glare.

'I don't know what that means, but I'll be fine.' She told him stiffly, and returned inside, now in control of her stomach and head.

'Okay.' He held his hands up in a gesture of defeat and followed her inside the well-lit warehouse cautiously. She went straight over to the guy that looked like he was in charge; the guy named Grissom, and began talking at a mile-a-minute, reeling off mountains of technical jargon that he seemed quite able to understand, and to reply with even more. To say Booth was astounded was a huge understatement. He watched them for a while, before picking his way carefully over the floor and standing beside her, his hand curling slightly over hers.

'Booth, this is Gil Grissom from the Las Vegas crime lab.'

'Why Las Vegas?'

'They're the best, and this is a high profile case. They'll be going as soon as they've presented their findings and cleared the scene.'

'Oh right.' Booth resisted the temptation to hold her hand as she reignited conversation between Grissom, finding out all she could.

'Apparently, they're just clearing the scene for us, all evidence goes straight to the FBI, but this team wont miss anything.'

'The FBI doesn't!' Booth mocked outrage, but even that was enough and she turned around again, ignoring him completely. He sighed audibly and returned to the door, conscious of where his feet were at all times. A young woman flagged him; she was vaguely pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair and wearing a CSI jumpsuit.

'Agent Booth?' She queried.

'Well everyone seems to know my name, how can I help you?'

'I'm Sara Sidle, from LV. You should probably either get your partner out of here, or bring her to me… there are some things she has to see, but if you think she won't be able to, tell me now.'

'She'll be fine, she deals with rotting corpses and splintered bones every day. The tragic remains of human lives in the flesh.' Sara nodded and gestured him away. He hurried back across the room, once again conscious of every step whilst in the back of his mind; he felt the element of time slipping slowly but steadily away.

'I see you met Sara.' Remarked Grissom as he approached, one hand already touching Brennan's shoulder.

'What? Oh yes, she's nice. Bones, could we borrow you for a second?' He shot a glance at Grissom who nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Without giving her time to answer, he hurried her over to where Sara was standing, a sheet over something that looked scarily like a human body in front of her. Sara crouched down, pulling Brennan down with her and peeling back the sheet. Booth had to hastily swallow back an inordinate amount of stomach acid that had risen in his throat, and Bones, his Bones, had begun to shake.

'That's…' She couldn't finish her sentence, and stood up, aided by Booth's capable hands. 'Horrible.' She took Booth's hand when he offered it, and squeezed it tightly, her entire body shaking with horror. Booth could see why. A young woman was on her back, on one arm was a web of old scar tissue, the white skin raised up and jagged. Her other arm ended at the wrist.

'The hand.' He muttered and she nodded soundlessly, swallowing down the bile that tainted her mouth. But it was the torso that was making them both feel vaguely ill, even Sara, who was, from what he could tell, a seasoned CSI, was looking a little sickened. Across the torso, scrawled in what looked like blood from where the hand had been severed, were the words: _Temperance Brennan? Joy Keenan?_

'How could they know!' She was verging one hysterical now, and Booth clapped a hand gently, but firmly over her mouth.

'I don't know, I don't know.' He whispered as he pulled her to him, saying the mantra over and over into her hair as he held her close.

'How could they know what? If you don't mind…' Sara ventured, seeing how much this had affected Brennan, and a kinship came over her for the other woman.

'Joy Keenan was Bones' birth name. Only a few people know about it.'

'Oh I see.' Sara nodded as Booth led Brennan outside the warehouse, where fresh, clean air had never seemed so appealing. She went outside with him, her already bombarded mind feeling as though it was shattering into pieces, as though her sanity was melting away.

'How did they know?' She kept murmuring, her head firmly pressed against Booth's shoulder as he stroked her hair.

'I don't know.' He kept saying to her, a mantra that could not calm her.

'How could they! I didn't know until five years ago… it… I…' She broke into sobs for the first time as he smoothed her hair and rubbed circles on her back, fingertips barely touching her. 'How could they know…?' She whispered sadly, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

'I don't know… but Bones, we can think of this, well… not good, but it narrows down dramatically who the suspects could be.'

'I guess…' She closed her eyes briefly and let him kiss her cheek lightly, so light she could barely tell if he had or not. 'I love you.' She murmured, still completely shattered and confused.

**oOo**

They arrived back at the Jeffersonian, case files and any evidence that the squint squad could look at. Namely particulates and photographs for Hodgins and Angela respectively. Booth was carrying it all, a harassed and tired looking Brennan following morosely behind. He pushed open the door and she ducked under his arm, heading for her desk with one thought that had been growing in her mind since she left the crime scene. She logged on and immediately brought up Google, typing feverishly to bring up the fan page for her books.

'Oh no… no that's not fair.' Splashed across the top of the message board page, in huge black letters, were the words:  
_Temperance Brennan? Or is she Joy Keenan? A source has revealed that Best Selling Author, Temperance Brennan, was in fact born Joy Keenan. What else is she hiding?_

'Bones?' Booth walked in, a lack of case files in his hands and two bottles of soda in them instead.

'God Booth… we're never going to get them.'

'Why not?' He moved around and peered at her screen, nearly dropping the soda as he processed what he saw.

'See! What are we going to do!' She felt as though everything was getting on top of her and she was buckling under the pressure.

'Hush, it's okay, we'll get Angela to do her techy stuff and trace the IP address, coupled with the particulates, we can find out who viewed it, their IP and if the particulates match, we can find them. Don't worry about it.'

'Are you sure?'

'I'm sure.' She nodded and closed down her computer with a sigh, standing and walking to her sofa. 'What are you doing?'

'I'm going to get some work done, then I'll drive myself home.'

'How?'

'Ange brought my car round from mine this morning.'

'Are you sure you'll be okay?'

'I'll be fine.' She sat down with the air of someone who wouldn't be leaving for a while and waved him away.

'I'll see you tomorrow at your place then?'

'Yeah, bring me here.' She smiled at him and produced a pen from a pocket of her cavernous jacket, scrawling some words in her elaborate script on the front of a file.

'All right.' He walked out, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers causing his jacket to ride up and reveal some of the brilliant white of his shirt at the back. She was still on the sofa when he looked back a few moments later. She never turned around.

**Sorry for the delay, but I have House Goes To Narnia to write (check it out, it's completely random :D)**

**Reviews are appreciated.**


	12. Friday

**Sorry it's been so long, but I had no ideas and I probably won't update for a while after this because I have to write a couple of other things too. Lots of B&B in this. Sorry for the massive delay between chapters which is going to continue for a while, but I hope you can forgive me my amazing reviewers, favouriters, and story alerters. :D**

Brennan made sure he was gone and then made a quick detour to the bathroom, worried far before she should. Four days was nothing. And she knew that she could get a false positive within the first two weeks, but she was suddenly, irrationally worried. She reached into her pocket and drew out the test, biting her lip and suddenly scared of what was going to happen. She recalled what Booth had said about Rebecca a few years ago:

'_We were waiting for the stick to turn blue or not to turn blue and realized I wanted to marry her if the stick was blue or not.' Booth had shuffled a little then, reluctant to meet her eyes._

She closed her eyes as she washed her hands, letting the cool water rush over them, after a few minutes barely feeling it. After taking her time drying her hands and making sure they were completely dry, she could put it off no longer. She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes had passed since she'd done it, more time than was needed; the moment of truth. She looked, taking in a deep breath before leaning in closer to read the digital writing on it. She'd chosen the easy-read so there was no mistaking it, and also because they were more trusted. Her eyes filled with tears.

_Pregnant_

She bit her lip again, forcing herself to think rationally. It had only been four days, and she knew she could get a false positive during the first week or so. But she was sure. She closed her eyes again and thought it through one more time.

If I'm pregnant, she thought carefully, If I'm pregnant, I'll have to wait two weeks to do another test, and by that time I'll know for certain anyway. Taking a deep breath, she counted the days from her last period and estimated that by next week, she would know for certain if she was pregnant or not. If she was, she would have to tell Booth. She sighed and went about gathering the box, instructions and all evidence of the test apart from the stick itself and disposing of them carefully, where no one would find them. Then, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she hurried out of the bathroom, unable to catch every tear that fell. She reached her office and shut the door, locking it behind her and drawing the blinds. She was sleeping in the office tonight.

**oOo**

Booth stared out of the window, watching over the city. He wasn't tired; something was biting in the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite let go. Something Brennan had told him before.

'_I saw him slip it into my drink but I drank it anyway.'_

Surely the bartender must have seen something, heard something. Anything. They got a face, matching nothing in any database from anywhere. Unless… unless they had something wrong with the face. It was Caucasian, yes, it was male, yes, but had Angela tried every combination. He assumed so. But it was still there in the back of his mind, still there and niggling constantly. He reached for his cell and scrolled through his phone book, feeling a little bad about rousing her, but more than likely she was awake anyway.

'Booth, what the hell?' Came the disgruntled reply from the other end of the line.

'Angela I'm so sorry, but I need to know something.' There was a groan from the other end of the line. 'I'm sorry, it's important.'

'Could it have not waited until morning?' She sounded exhausted.

'I guess it could, but I need to ask something.'

'Ask away.' He imagined her on the other end of the phone, flopped back, trying not to fall asleep.

'When you did your face from the description the bartender gave us, did you try making his hair either blond or a darker brown?'

'I was going on what the bartender said and I gave a little for the light there, but I didn't think if he was drunk or a little drugged, or hell, even being paid to say that.'

'No, don't say that, please don't say that.'

'Sorry, tomorrow when I get back to the lab, I'll check and see with other hair colours and take a stab at the eye colour in correlation to skin and hair colour.'

'Okay, thanks Angela, so sorry for waking you.'

'No, no I'm okay. Goodnight Booth.' She hung up and Booth put his phone down on the table, still staring mundanely out of the window. He wanted to call Brennan, see if she was home, and see if she was feeling okay, and if not, why not. So he did. He dialled her number, laying back on the bed and waiting for her to pick up, counting the rings.

'Brennan.' She sounded exhausted, and as if she had been crying, her voice had a kind of husky tone to it.

'Bones hey, are you okay?' There was silence for a while, almost as if Brennan was figuring out how to answer that one.

'Hey Booth, I'm… I'm fine.' She sounded as though she had lied to him, and also that she'd just woken from a deep sleep.

'Are you sure?' She sat in her chair, head on her arm, the ache in her ribs intensifying as she moved slightly.

'Yeah I'm fine.' She lied quickly, leaning back, staring at the plain ceiling.

'You don't sound fine. Want me to come over and stay with you?'

'No. No, I'm okay.' She answered fast, way too fast and Booth suddenly knew something was wrong.

'Bones, what's happened?' There was a drawn out sob. Then silence on the other end of the line as she tried to piece together what was left of her mentality.

'Nothing's happened, at least, nothing of… importance.' She swallowed, still staring at the test on her desk, the one word burning into her mind.

_Pregnant_

It was like a curse. Like a mark on her. She bit back a sob as Booth spoke into the phone again.

'Brennan, what's happened?' She placed her hand flat on the desk.

'Nothing has happened Booth. Now, if you'll let me go back to sleep.'

'Oh I woke you! I'm sorry.'

'No, it's okay. I was awake anyway. I was just a little… irritated. There's a siren outside my window.' She lied again, well, not lied, bent the truth. There was a siren, just not outside the window of her home.

'Oh right, I could come and hug you…'

'No, I'll see you tomorrow at work. Goodnight Booth.'

'Goodnight Bones. Love you.'

'Love you too Booth.' She put the phone down and rested back against her chair, for a moment before standing up and heading to her sofa.

**oOo**

Which is where Booth found her in the morning, sat on her couch with a mug of coffee in one hand and a file in the other.

'Hey.' She looked up at his voice, her eyes still a little puffy and red from her tears a couple of hours before.

'Hey.' Her voice was still husky, but she smiled wanly.

'How are you feeling?' She bit back a retort, keeping the news to herself.

'I'm okay, why?'

'You seemed… tense when I called.' He told her, reaching down and rubbing her shoulders, hoping she would loosen up.

'I'm fine, really.' Too late she realized that she hadn't disposed of the test and it was stuffed hastily under a few papers, the writing still visible. She stoop up abruptly and swept it into her pocket, her fingers brushing the piece of crumpled paper that she'd placed in there the day before.

'I'm sorry, I'm just worried about… what happened to you has done to your mind, maybe you're just…'

'I hate psychology Booth.' She sat back down and pulled her keyboard to her, tapping in her password and bringing up a file.

'Is that…? Is that one of your books?' He asked her softly, once again behind her with the palm of his hand on her shoulder, skim-reading part of the book on the screen.

'Yes, now stop looking!' She swatted him away and closed the document again. 'I can't think Booth.' She whispered.

'What? What do you mean?' He asked her, rubbing her arm a little.

'I can't think, my mind just… seems to be returning, returning to everything that happened in that place, everything he did to me… but the worst thing is… I could feel her watching me.' Brennan let Booth put his arm around her and leaned into his warmth, taking comfort in the feel of him. She hadn't realized she was crying until her face felt wet, and raising a hand she wiped them away with the palm of it.

'Bones, you have to face up to this you know, tell me… what happened?'

'I hate psychology!' She tried to shout, but was fed up of crying, fed up of lying, and fed up of pushing him away. But somehow… he took it all and never left her side for a moment.

'I know, I know you do. But let me in.'

'I… I… I can't. Please, please just leave me alone.'

'No, not until you talk to me.'

'I'm scared.'

'Okay, I get that, but please. Tell me. I love you, I won't push you away.' He hugged her again and she stood, walking towards the couch and throwing herself into it, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly. He sat down beside her, barely touching her until she let him, not speaking until she spoke.

'Booth?'

'Yes?'

'I don't know if I can do this… I'm still scared.'

'They can't hurt you anymore, I won't let them.' He placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him.

'You can't promise that.'

'Hey, Bones, I'm me, of course I can.' She smiled.

**oOo**

_Darkness, light, torches, pain, tired. Emotions and feeling raged through her battered body, the hot, heavy scent of blood present in the air. Her blood, and someone else's blood… someone who was almost certainly dead. She could feel the tackiness on her skin, smell the harsh ammonia smell of bleach and feel grit beneath her hands._

_I'm going to die here, she thought. Then there was a noise, barely discernible except her senses were heightened due to the adrenaline. But the dull ache in her arm was overriding everything, the crack of her ribs playing over and over in her head. She could still remember how she got here._

_Flashing light, pain all over, strong hands lifting her roughly from her prison and throwing her to the ground. She'd landed painfully, her elbow jamming up into her ribs and cracking one or two of them. And now she was hurting everywhere. There were footsteps behind her, and she desperately tried to move, gaining nothing more than an ache in her ribs and spreading blood on the floor._

'_This the one?' A voice, gruff, deep. A man._

'_Yes.' A cold, distant voice. A woman. Brennan tried to move._

'_A feisty one then?' The man._

'_Yes, that's what I like about her.' The woman again, humor in her voice as Brennan felt her shadow fall over her face. 'Get to work.' She felt her wrists being tied with some tight, prickly material, even as she tried to push it off. The man was stronger than her in her weakened state, and he quickly overpowered her, pushing her back onto the floor and pawing at her slacks. Still with no gag on, she did the most stupid thing she could._

'_Get off of me or I'll kick your ass.' Which earned her a slap across the face, and, breathless, she was gagged with something cold and wet. She bit down and tasted the unmistakable salt of blood run into her mouth. She had to swallow, and by now tears were coursing down her cheeks._

'_You can't like this.' In the pale light, she could see the leer on his face. He sliced the knife down and cut the front of her shirt open, revealing her bra and bruised skin of her chest. She closed her eyes and tried to block everything out.  
_

_Booth will kick his ass_

_Booth will kick his ass_

_Booth will kick his ass_

_Booth will kick his ass_

_She thought this as he abused her, raped her and hurt her until she slipped into unconsciousness._

**oOo**

'Jeez Bones, why didn't you tell me before?'

'I was scared you'd push me away. I'm damaged goods Booth.'

'No, you're not. You're my Bones.'

'I feel like damaged goods.'

'You aren't. You're mine.' He kissed her cheek and pulled her in to his embrace, waiting for her to relax into it.

'Thank you Booth.'

'Hey, it's nothing. I got Angela to run the face again, but with different hair and skin tones, just in case.'

'Thank you.' She stood up, brushed down her pants and turned to face him.

'I'm going to go home for a bit, just to… see if it jogs my memory you know?'

'I know, but haven't you been home all night?'

'Does it matter? I'm not even supposed to be here.'

'Fair enough. I'll come get you later okay?'

'Why?'

'I want to make sure you're okay.'

'Thank you.' She told him, genuinely touched. And then she was gone. She walked swiftly outside, keeping her head down until she reached her car, and then slipped inside, keying the ignition and pulling away. She cast one last glance at the Jeffersonian before leaving towards her apartment and placing both hands carefully on the steering wheel. They trembled. If she was a smoker, she supposed that right now she'd be taking a deep drag on a cigarette, hoping it would calm her nerves. But Temperance Brennan knew what smoking did to you, and was not at all anxious to try it. Her hands were still shaking.

'God damn it!' She rarely swore (although one of her most favorite phrases when she was angry with someone was "rat-bastard") but this time just seemed fitting. Right now she just wanted a drink, but she couldn't, wouldn't. She was reminded of a time when they'd solved a tough case and she was in the lab as Booth had come by, nursing a drink.

'_Vodka?' Booth had asked, looking suddenly hopeful. She had laughed._

'_No, water. But it's…' She held up the glass and shook it, the ice inside rattling slightly. 'On the rocks.'_

And now she craved a drink. But for the sake of what might be, she wasn't. She wanted a kid, heck she even asked Booth to father a kid, and now she had her wish. And she was happy, she hoped he would be too.

But nothing was confirmed yet.

But even so, she was terrified.

**So sorry for the wait, I hope the chapter was worth it. Tell me what you think (: reviewsies please :D**


	13. Saturday

**Okay, one thing, I haven't posted in ages, and two people review it D: *cries in a corner* Never mind, I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway. Lots of B&B fluff and just a small word of warning, when describing David Boreanaz as sexy to old relatives, never, and I really mean NEVER, describe him as 'Sex-On-A-Stick'. (:**

'Bones?' Brennan turned when she heard her name, noticed it was Booth, and kept walking, albeit a little slower than before. She liked making him run.

'Hey Booth.' She'd called him last night, only telling him about what had happened, a kind of delayed shock, but just so that he'd be there as she cried.

'_Booth?' She whispered as soon as he'd picked up the phone, he'd known it was her and was silent._

'_Are you okay Bones?' The first words from him had made her curl up even tighter in a ball and cry._

'_I… I don't…'_

'_I'll be with you soon.' He refused to hang up on her, and, seeing how stubborn he was, she didn't hang up either. 'Temperance?' She felt a shock when he spoke her name._

'_Seeley.' The only word she could manage. _

'_I'm here.' She choked back tears. 'I'm here for you' She heard the muffled roar of an engine. 'I'm putting you on speaker okay?' There was a tense silence on the other end of the line. 'Bones?'_

'_Okay.' The word was followed by a sob._

'_This isn't like you Bones… what's wrong?' She didn't talk, and like the first time she'd called him since it had happened, he was silent. Presently, she heard his car draw up outside her apartment building and through the phone she heard his feet on the stairs; followed by a knock on the door._

'_Bones? Bones?' She didn't move. 'I'm letting myself in.' She kept her knees drawn up to her chest on the couch, staring at the wall opposite her. 'Tempe? Where are you?' She couldn't speak, didn't want to speak. He found her, curled up on the couch, face wet with tears. He just sat beside her, not touching her, not speaking._

'_I'm sorry Booth.' She managed eventually._

'_You don't have to be sorry for anything.' She sat up slowly, rubbing her face with her hand. 'I'm here, just remember that okay?' She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as he drew his arm around her and held her to him._ '_Just relax. Just trust me, alright? I'll take care of you. Shhh, I got you. Breathe. I'll take care of you I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I got you baby.' He whispered as he had over a year ago when she had been seriously injured; this time as she broke down in his arms._

'_I'm so sorry…' She whispered when she had finished crying, the front of his shirt damp. 'You didn't need to see me like that.'_

'_If I can't take you at your worst, how can I take you at your best?'_

'_Thank you. Really. I mean it Booth, thank you.'_

'_Hey, it's no problem, it's a partner thing right?' He cuddled her closer as she nodded, squeezing her against his chest._

'_Just a partner thing?'_

'_Well no…'_

'_I'm so sorry, so… so sorry.' She whispered as a fresh deluge of memories and pain from what had happened hurtled through her brain and caused a moment of nausea at the vivid details. She coughed for a moment, dry retching._

'_Bones, are you okay?'_

'_Yes… sorry… it just makes me feel so bad that I can't help it.' Booth held her again and she pushed her face into his chest, scared to look at him._

'_Bones, you don't have to apologize.'_

'_I don't?'_

'_No, you've been through a traumatic time recently, you earned it.' He whispered to her, and she let him kiss her and hold her until eventually, she fell into a deep, healing sleep._

'Hey, I wanted to talk about last night…' Booth muttered when he reached her.

'What's to talk about Booth?' She kept walking.

'Bones, c'mon.'

'What's to talk about?'

'You broke down on me Brennan!' She placed a hand forcefully over his mouth.

'Booth please! Be quiet!' She hissed, hitting him on the chest. He smiled, knowing that if she really wanted to hurt him, he could have several broken bones by now.

'Sorry, but I wanted you to know… I'm never going to hurt you Temperance.'

'Don't.' She shook her head slowly. 'Don't call me Temperance, please… don't…'

'Why not?' He looked confused, blinking for a moment as if he'd been stunned.

'Because… because… I… I don't like it.'

'You don't like your name?'

'I don't like it when you use my name… I'm used to Bones.'

'But you hated Bones before now.' He objected, placing a hand on her shoulder, making her turn to face him. She shrugged him off.

'So what if I did? I'll never get used to being called Temperance, even after 15 years.'

'Tempe then?'

'Booth, stop.' He watched her for a second.

'Why Brennan, you tell me why you're afraid of your own identity.'

'I'm not!' He touched her arm again and she span round on her heel. 'Booth, forget it.' Brennan took his hand away and started walking fast, feeling tense.

'No, you know what Bones, I won't!'

'Yes, you will.'

'No, because this time, I'm gonna win.' He caught up with her and kept at her pace.

'Booth… I don't know what you want me to say.'

'Why you hate being Temperance.'

'I don't know who I am.'

'What do you mean? You've never said that before…'

'I never found anyone that would… Angela's great but…'

'I'm your partner.' She nodded.

'You're my partner, my best friend…' She trailed off sadly, leaning against the wall as if all her strength had been sapped in a moment.

'Your lover.'

'Well that too.'

'How are you feeling?'

'What?' She jumped, heart racing.

'I mean… about our relationship.'

'I… I think this could work. I know how scared I am of commitment, but also I know that… I trust you. I trust you Booth.' Booth placed an arm around her shoulder.

'That's as good as "I love you" coming from you.' He whispered, and she smiled sadly.

'I'm sorry I can't say it.' She muttered, still leaning against the wall.

'No it's okay, I know you love me and that's all I need.' He smiled, setting her mind to rest, and resting one hand against the wall she was leaning on.

'That's true… even though, anthropologically speaking, love is a chemical reaction that causes strong emotions and a release of endorphins.'

'Again with the anthropology Bones.'

'I'm a Forensic Anthropologist!' He smiled at her outburst and she pushed him weakly in the chest, not removing her hands. He looked down, a slight flicker of surprise registering on his face until he placed his hands over hers, holding them loosely, the mere contact sending her pulse racing and her heart jumping in her chest. 'And… and I… I am in love with you. Now… this second… more than ever.'

'What?' His voice was husky, filled with emotion and a tenderness she hadn't heard before from anyone she'd ever known. She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

'I have a strong emotional bond with you, one I've never experienced with anyone I've ever been with before. And yet I still can't say it.'

'It's not that hard baby, just three words. Say it after me… you know you can. Anthropologically speaking; there is nothing that restricts your voice apart from your heart. Come on, talk to me Bones… just repeat after me: I.'

'I…' _I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you._

'A third of the way there, ready? Love.' He stepped closer to her, intimately close.

'Love…' Her heart was pounding and she took a breath to steady her nerves.

'You can do it baby. You.' _C'mon Bones, just one word. Just one word. C'mon._

'You.' She let out a breath and rested her head on his shoulder. 'I love you.' Boot grinned as she said those words, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly.

'I love you Bones, you're my Bones. I love you.' He kissed the top of her head tenderly. 'You will never know how much.' She kept herself perfectly still as she buried her head into his shoulder, hands clenching the fabric of his jacket.

'I love you.' The words were still alien on her tongue, and she stepped back slightly, still up against the wall with Booth holding her hands. 'I really, really need you.' She whispered, her voice shaking slightly. _Like you'll see, if you still want me after I tell you._ 'I really… really need you.' Her hands were still on his chest, and she made no move to remove them until his face hovered into view.

'And I'm never, ever going to leave you.' He whispered, leaning in closer until their lips brushed, his hands moving to go around her waist.

'I hope not.' She whispered as he kissed her again, holding her lightly up against the wall with her hands around his neck.

**oOo**

Angela shuffled uncomfortably; waiting for her printer to spew out the relevant information she'd gleaned from the IP tracing. It finally gave a final loud beep and the paper spilled from it, all the relevant information printed boldly in black and white. She picked it up in her hand and began prowling the lab for Brennan. Who, for the first time in a very long while, was not there. She did, however, catch sight of Cam who was walking towards her.

'Cam, I was wondering if you could help me.' She began when Cam reached her.

'I can try, what is it you want?'

'Have you seen Brennan?' Cam leaned on the empty table that usually housed a mostly decomposed corpse, running a quick scan through her mind.

'I have, have you got something for her?'

'I do, not much, but my IP trace came up with something positive, only we're waiting on Hodgins' particulates to be sure.'

'Oh. Good. Do you want me to give it to her?' Angela sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

'Please do, I need to hover over Hodgins' shoulder for a while; hurry him up a little.'

'Good idea.' Cam nodded. 'Is that the… thing?'

'What? This? Oh, yeah. Thanks Cam.' Angela put the printout on the table and turned away, heading to her husbands office, where particulates were being analyzed.

'No problem.' Cam walked away, having a vague idea where she would find Brennan, and probably Booth with her. There were two places they would be if they were in the lab, and she was pretty sure they hadn't left yet. She decided the break area would be the first place to check. She started climbing the stairs, reaching the top in a few moments, scanning the walkway and, seeing that they weren't there, moved on to her second place. Brennan's office. She had barely turned the corner when she saw them. They looked deep in conversation, heads together, Brennan against the wall with Booth's arms… _around her waist. _They were not talking. She moved a little closer to them and noticed that they weren't talking. She felt a stab of muted jealously, then a small flicker of happiness for them in her chest. They had finally realized what everyone else had known since their first cases together. She coughed loudly, already quirking an eyebrow to see their reaction. They didn't turn. She walked right up to them.

'Having fun there?' She quirked her eyebrow again as they broke apart hastily, Brennan backing away warily like a cornered animal.

'Cam, we were just… that was…' Booth floundered, stepping away from Brennan as she ran a hand over her face.

'I know what you were doing.' Booth and Brennan flushed to the roots of their hair, stepping back together and linking fingers.

'Cam you can't… The FBI won't let us.' Brennan pleaded, actually pleaded with her boss.

'Don't worry. Brennan, Booth, I won't keep your secret, but I will make sure you both keep your respective jobs.'

'What do you mean you won't keep our secret. It's not… not a secret.' Brennan muttered, blushing again.

'Definitely if you start making out in public.' Cam muttered dryly, smiling as she did. Booth ran a hand through his hair with one hand and leaned against the wall, holding Brennan's hand with his other.

'That… it wasn't a mistake but… probably here… it was.'

'I suppose.' Brennan agreed with him, feeling his hand squeeze hers gently.

'Definitely a mistake, especially if you want to keep this on the down low from the FBI.' Cam stated, still holding the printout.

'I don't know what that means…'

'Bones, it's just a way of saying "keep it quiet".'

'So why didn't Cam just say that?'

'I am here you know.' Cam interjected, shoving the sheet of paper into Brennan's hand. 'Here, it's what Angela managed to get from her IP tracing.' Brennan looked at it for a second, handed it to Booth and gave Cam a small smile.

'Thank you.' She muttered.

'Do you mind me asking… why you want this?'

'Actually I do.' Cam held her hands up in defeat and sighed.

'Okay, I know that as soon as you've finished this case you'll let us know.'

'Yeah…' Brennan sighed softly, wanting Booth's arms around her.

'Well okay then, when we get the particulate evidence from Hodgins, I'll let you both out to the address.' Brennan and Booth nodded, once again linking fingers. 'Okay.' Cam sounded a little strained and out of her depth before she turned around and walked back towards her office. 'Grab a coffee or something.' She called over her shoulder.

'Is this worth it Booth… are we worth it?' Brennan murmured, staring at the floor.

'What do you mean?'

'Is love really worth this? We could lose our jobs… is what we have worth trying to beat the odds for?' Booth pulled her into a hug.

'Don't ever say that Bones, it's always worth it.'

'How do you know?'

'Parker.' He rubbed her shoulders, keeping her locked in his embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed quietly, her head aching.

'Am I worth it?' She whispered softly.

'Yes. Most definitely.'

**Yeah loadsa fluff in this chapter, but I had to put it somewhere (: **

**Reviews feed my soul and make me update quicker :P**


	14. 1 Week

**I am so so so so sorry for ignoring you for so long! *cries* I've just been having some bad time right now. Beginning to hate certain people right now but yes I will not leave it so long next time.**

'Booth, I'm… I'm… sorry.' She stepped back and stroked his face gently, keeping her gaze fixed on his as he touched her hand.

'What for?' She dropped her gaze and he placed a finger under her chin, lifting her head up slightly.

'For being so weak.' She flushed a little, a spot of color rising from her cheeks to her cheekbones and under her eyes.

'Bones, for what's happened to you, you're being so strong.' He kissed her softly. 'You're my inspiration.' She felt her eyes welling up, and rapidly blinked the tears away, squeezing the top of Booth's arm gently.

'Thanks.' Brennan sniffed and then looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. 'We have an address.' She told him, the surprise leaping into her voice as she read it out, Booth jotting it down in his little black notebook. He peered over her shoulder, looking at the information printed in black and white.

'And Angela is sure about this?'

'When have you ever known her to be wrong?' Booth conceded that she was right and touched her shoulder gently as she buttoned her jacket, something she seldom did.

'How are you feeling?'

'Scared out of my mind.' She admitted, her hand trembling so much she had to shove it into her pocket to hide it.

'That makes two of us.' Booth told her, fingers trailing over her hand and closing over it as she shivered beside him.

'Why are you scared?' She asked him, biting down and forcing herself into rigidity.

'For you. I'm scared for you.' He told her gently, making sure that he wasn't being too tender, because that just wasn't him. Kind, yes. Caring, yes. Good in bed, yes. He scolded himself for thinking of the last one, but couldn't help dwelling on the fact that Brennan was standing right by him, vulnerable and in need of someone. He just hoped he could hold onto her. He gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face and left his hand lingering there for a few moments before dropping to his side.

'Ready?' Brennan looked fearfully at the floor.

'Maybe… maybe we should take Sweets with us.' She whispered, hardly daring to say it.

'But Bones, you hate psychology.' Booth stared at his partner, hardly believing she'd asked for help from Sweets.

'But, I think… we need someone to determine how dangerous this person is.' Booth touched her cheek slightly with his fingertips and nodded so that she could see.

'Okay, I'll talk to Sweets, and we'll go and get him on the way, okay?' Brennan touched his arm lightly with her fingers and thanked him quietly. 'Are you sure you'll be ok?' He checked with her, his fingers gently tracing a line down her arm.

'I'll be fine, Booth.' She told him sharply, the earlier moment of intimacy shoved aside as she snapped back into her rational persona without a pause.

'So… do you want Sweets or not?' She placed her shaking hands in her pockets.

'I do.' He nodded and led the way out of the office, towards the underground car park where his FBI issue SUV was waiting.

**oOo**

Sweet was sat in his office with his feet up on the desk, unconsciously twiddling a pen between his fingers. As per usual, they were late. Not even a phone call. He was fuming, completely and utterly exasperated with Booth and Brennan, every time they were late. There was a tremulous knock on the door and Sweets looked up, all thoughts of dismembering both of them rapidly disintegrating as soon as Brennan walked in, looking out of breath and as if she'd been crying.

'Doctor Brennan?' He enquired, getting briskly to his feet and moving towards her. Booth was by her side before he could move, almost as if he'd appeared by magic from the corridor.

'Bones, are you _sure _about this?' He asked her, his hand resting on the small of her back. Sweets arched an eyebrow.

'Yes.' She replied evenly, touching his hand lightly.

'Is what a good idea?' Sweets tried to think of a situation where what Brennan said was wrong. He couldn't.

'So what's wrong?' Sweets asked her, still wondering why he was not receiving an apology for them being so late, even though he hardly expected one.

'Sweets, despite my hatred of psychology, I need you to come with us in questioning a suspect.' Brennan drew in a breath, knowing exactly what was coming next.

'In which investigation, I was not aware you had one ongoing.' Booth stole a glance at Brennan, who was still touching his hand, but she was looking at Sweets, her gaze fixed on him.

'A rape.' Sweets still looked puzzled.

'But Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth, don't you only do bones and almost completely decomposed bodies? In which you can't tell a sexual assault?'

'This is true.' Brennan informed him, keeping herself anchored in the place with Booth's hand tightly on hers.

'So… why?'

'It's me.' She whispered, Booth squeezing down further on her hand and feeling his blood boil as Sweets stared at her.

'You?' He asked her, his eyes nearly out on stalks.

'Yes. Me. Is that a problem, Sweets?' Sweets had the decency to look a little abashed.

'No, no I'm just surprised you asked me along with you.'

'Sweets, for the first time, I need a psychologist's input. I need to know… please.' For the first time in her life, she actually started pleading with him. Sweets nodded slowly, noting in his mind every touch Booth and Brennan made, every look they exchanged.

'Ok, when?' Booth moved the hand from the small of Brennan's back to her hip and saw how Brennan's face flushed a slight pink.

'Now.' Booth told him tersely, already out of the door, still holding Brennan's hand in his own as they left. Sweets watched them absently for a second before realizing that they were leaving him behind.

'Wait for me!' He shrugged his jacket on and slammed the door of his office on his way out, the noise causing him to freeze for a second before following them after ensuring that nothing was broken. They kept walking. He hurried to catch up with them, falling slightly short behind them as Booth casually snaked an arm around her waist. She rested her head against his shoulder and Booth sighed softly. Sweets though it over and drew one conclusion.

_They're together… finally._

**oOo**

Sweets was talking non stop in the back, and Brennan just wanted to scream at him to shut up, even though she knew he would tell that something was wrong. She just kept staring forwards, not even noticing when they reached the turn off and Booth touched her hand gently. With Sweets wittering on behind her and Booth driving, cursing almost fluently at worse and slower drivers, she zoned out. It was when they came to a sudden stop that she zoned back in again, looking at the car in front of them that wasn't moving.

'Damn driver.' Booth muttered, earning Brennan's attention and she looked at him.

'What?'

'He's not moving.'

'Use your siren.' She suggested tiredly, shifting slightly in her seat. Booth nodded, smiling at her. He put the siren on and simultaneously; both Sweets and Brennan covered their ears. There was no response from the car. Brennan opened her door and felt Booth's hand close around her wrist.

'No.'

'What?' Booth shook his head and closed his grip even tighter on her wrist.

'Call it a gut feeling.' Brennan shook her head.

'You and your gut again? Booth…' She closed her eyes.

'Trust me, Bones.' He let go of her wrist and stepped out himself, watching her before turning away. Sweets reached forwards and placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped.

'Sweets, how can I help you?' Her rational persona was back. Sweets took his hand away and she turned to face him, her face pale from lack of sleep and the fear of the past few days.

'Are you and Agent Booth…?' Brennan glared at him for a moment, before relenting, her mental resolve already weakened, and she was unable to fix him with the steely, unflinching glare of before for more than a couple of seconds before she was confessing all.

'Yes, Sweets. I know it shouldn't be but… my God yes…' She sniffed, unaware until that moment that she had been crying. She stemmed her tears on her sleeve and nodded that answers to all his unspoken questions.

'Doctor Brennan that's… that's fantastic! I mean, my conclusions were correct.'

'Is that all it is to you? A hypothesis?' She wanted to shout, to scream and break down, but, with effort, she forced down the rush of emotions that was building inside her. Sweets, oblivious to her inside struggle, continued to smile happily as she stared out of the windshield, her eyes rapidly welling up with tears she was frightened to shed. Booth waved a hand and she looked up, the jolt causing a couple of tears to roll down her cheeks and land on her trousers. He was shouting.

'Bones?' She lifted her head, and finally snapped fully back into reality. She waved a hand at him.

_Coming_

'Bones, you need to see this.' She nodded and stepped from the car, already feeling fragile and worried about what he was going to show her.

'What do I need to see Booth?' He didn't speak, just motioned for her to come closer, a myriad of thoughts running through his brain. But predominantly…

_What if it is him? What happens then?_

Brennan inched closer, the expression on Booth's face a warning to her without words, hearing the quiet thud as Sweets stepped out of the car too. She stepped forwards again, the minutes stretching on as she hardly dared to venture any further, Booth's eyes flashing a warning. She took the final step and peered into the window, her limbs quaking as she tried to keep herself still. A gasp escaped her slightly parted lips, and Booth, knowing the warning signs, stepped forwards and enfolded her in his arms.

'Is it him?' He whispered in her ear as she trembled. 'Did he do this to you?' She nodded slowly.

'Is he…?' She started, already knowing the answer, but wanting to be sure. The question hung in the air until Booth answered, his mouth next to her ear.

'He's dead baby.' She felt a small squeak of happiness escape her and he kissed her neck gently. 'It's over.'

**oOo**

Cam handed Angela a mug of coffee and they sat in the break area, watching the lab from the walkway. Angela took a sip and glanced over at the boss she had come to like and regard as a friend.

'You make the best coffee, Cam.' Cam looked up, startled out of her partial reverie by Angela.

'I do?' Angela nodded seriously and took a sip of it, once again shivering as the warm liquid rushed through her cold and tired limbs. Cam continued staring, still confused about what she had seen earlier.

'Yes. Cam? What's bothering you?' Angela and her uncanny knack of knowing things had hit the nail on the head. Cam shook her head and tried to clear it for a moment, dwelling on it.

'I… never mind.' Angela glared at her.

'No, Cam, I mean it, what's wrong?' Cam stared out over the lab again.

'Booth and Brennan…'

'Oh tell me about it! They're being so secretive and hiding and not telling me things when I'm working on an investigation for them…' Cam smiled, shaking her head.

'That's not it.' Angela choked a little on her coffee.

'Slow down there, what do you mean? There isn't anything else.' Angela peered over the lip of the cup and stared at Cam as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 'Is there?' Cam smiled sweetly back at her.

'Ask Brennan.'

'No, Cam, I'm asking _you._' Angela pointed out, still staring at her boss.

'Okay… okay… I caught them making out outside her office.' Angela snorted into her coffee.

'Get you Cam! Since when did you use the term "making out" to describe co-workers… or, well, anything?' Cam laughed.

'I'm not that old Angela, and, you know, teenage daughter does help that little bit more.' Angela did a theatrical facepalm.

'I know, sorry.' She smiled. 'So, Brennan and Booth are… most definitely… a couple?' Cam nodded and Angela clapped her hands excitedly, taking another swallow of her now lukewarm coffee.

'Good right?' Angela nodded, looking morosely down into her empty coffee mug and looking over at the lab. They both stared at the door. It didn't open, no one came in, and nothing changed.

**oOo**

Booth gently touched her cheek, wiping away the tears gently.

'I'm sorry Bones.' Sweets was just quietly observing them as Booth gingerly kissed her neck. She ignored him and just let Booth hold her, smiling as his lips brushed hers. She suddenly froze.

'Booth…'

'Yes?' He whispered, his lips still a few millimeters from hers.

'What do we do now?'

**Love you all so much for sticking by me! I will update soon.**

**Reviews make me so happy (:  
**


	15. A While Later

**Been way too long since I updated it, and I hate people who never finish stories, and I realized I was becoming one of those people, so I got my ass into gear and wrote this for you. I'm uncertain as to whether there's going to be another chapter, want to tell me if you want one? If you want me to write another chapter for this, let me know, cause after so long neglecting you guys I decided I should aim to make you happy.**

**I love you all for reviewing and I'm so sorry for not updating before.  
**

Brennan sat on the edge of the bath her eyes blurring as she stared at the white stick lying on the counter. Two lines crossed the display window and she shivered, her eyes filling rapidly with tears. She supposed she always knew, just after it happened, she knew but she was too scared to do anything about it except test and fool herself into thinking it was false positive. She had been so wrapped up in convincing herself that it was a false positive that she never really planned what to do if it turned out to be a true positive.

What scared her the most was whether Booth knew about it, whether he knew that what had happened had resulted in this. A chilling thought struck her and she let out a low moan of terror, the blood freezing in her veins and the tears she had managed to hold at bay finally slipped down over her cheeks.

She didn't know whose baby it was. Desperately, she searched her memory banks, the night it happened still fuzzy and the details uncertain. She heard the front door click and hurriedly wrapped the test in tissue and hid it carefully behind the cistern, her hands trembling as she washed them under the cool tap. She could hear Booth in the other room, his footsteps in her kitchen as he walked in, whistling to himself. Flushing water over her face and drying it carefully, she stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door cautiously as she did so.

Booth smiled as he saw her, opening his arms and folding her inside them. She forced herself to relax, the burden of knowing resting heavily in her mind. She smiled a perfectly believable fake smile and hugged him tightly; her hands looping round to hold him firmly. He looked down at her, his brow creasing.

'You're doing it again.' He told her, holding onto her as she tried to escape his embrace.

'Doing what?' she asked him, removing herself from his arms and stepping back so that she could watch his face, observe him. She suddenly felt a lurch in her stomach but pushed it down, concentrating solely on Booth as he stood in front of her, arms folded.

'Deflecting. Hiding. What's wrong, Tempe?' she shook her head suddenly, unable to stop herself making a movement.

'Nothing.' inside her chest, her heart was screaming at her to confess what she knew, to yell at Booth and then sob in his arms so that he understood her feelings and what was going on in secret inside her body. She forced the feeling of helplessness away and just shook her head again, reiterating the point.

'Nothing's wrong, Booth, why would anything be wrong?' he kissed her on the lips and she didn't respond at all, her mind wandering away from the room.

'There, something is definitely wrong here.' He stated and she inadvertently looked away at the floor, a curtain of hair sweeping over her face. He sighed and walked away from her, running a hand tiredly over his face in exasperation.

'Why won't you tell me what's wrong, Tempe, it can't be that bad.' she shuddered and longed to tell him that yes, it could be that bad.

'I'm fine.' she told him rigidly, biting down hard on her lip until she tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Booth came up behind her and buried his face in her hair, hands circling her stomach. She realised, with a sickening jolt that sent sweat rolling down her body, that her stomach already was firm and curved gently in the characteristic way. Her head hurt and she mentally reprimanded herself for not noticing before. How the hell did she not notice before? She practically screamed pregnant from all angles. Booths hands pressing on her stomach made her feel uncomfortable, so she breathed in, willing the baby to move back and away from him. Mercifully he seemed not to notice and let go of her, kissing the top of her head gently.

'You look tired.' he told her softly. 'Tired and sick.' she closed her eyes, emphasising the huge dark circles under them and he wrapped an arm around her waist. 'Here, just rest tonight, you don't look yourself.' he kissed her gently. 'Sleep, Tempe. Goodnight.' she kissed him softly and then he left, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Brennan let the tears flow freely then and dragged herself to her bedroom, lying face down and crying earnestly into her pillows. She was alone, yet somehow that was worse.

**oOo**

Brennan closed her eyes and pushed open the door to Angela's apartment, using the key Hodgins and Angela had given her when they'd moved in together. Angela appeared, bleary eyed and wrapped up tightly in her dressing gown.

'Sweetie?' Angela sensed immediately that something was wrong, not that it was difficult, and the amount of tears pouring down Brennan's face could have given it away immediately. Angela folded Brennan into her arms and held her there tightly, stroking her back as her friend broke down in her arms. Brennan sobbed, huge heaving sobs being ripped from her body that made her shake and cling to Angela as tight as she could.

'I'm sorry.' Brennan whispered. 'I had nowhere else to go.'

'What about home, Sweetie?' Brennan shook her head and felt Angela slacken her grip around her shoulders.

'I'm sorry.' Brennan held tightly to Angela, but when the younger Hispanic woman let go, she stepped back.

'What's wrong, Bren?' Brennan shook her head, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand for a moment and then looked up at Angela, a pitiful look on her face.

'I'm... I...' Brennan floundered, uncertain of how to proceed. Angela kissed her forehead.

'Tell me.' Brennan nodded, steeling herself and placed her hands flat on her stomach.

'I... You know... When... When you made that map, for my case...' Angela nodded. 'I... I was raped.' Brennan took a deep breath in and ignored the gasp from Angela.

'Sweetie... Are you... Are you pregnant?' Brennan closed her eyes and nodded.

'That's not it though... I... Booth and I engaged in sexual activity that night. I don't know whose baby it is.' She heard Angela gasp and then felt her best friend's arms wrapping around her as she crumpled.

'Oh, Sweetie.' Angela held Brennan as she cried and gently rubbed circles through the smooth and thin material of her jumper. Brennan clung tightly to Angela; her hands claw like and tight around the wrists of her closest friend.

'I didn't know where else to go.' She whispered, tears sparkling in her eyes and on her cheeks as Angela held her tightly, holding her hand and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she shivered. 'What do I do?' She whispered, the answer appearing far away and distant. Nothing made sense any more.

'Tell Booth, Sweetie, he needs to know.' Brennan closed her eyes and was unable to stop a small moan of terror escaping her and clung ever tighter the Angela's hands.

'But what if it's not his? What then?' Angela soothed Brennan cautiously, wrapping an arm around her friend and hoping that the tremors in her own body wouldn't reflect into Brennan's.

'Just tell him, Sweetie. He has a right to know.' Brennan nodded, her tearstained face giving away exactly how she felt in those short moments where the two friends felt connected. Brennan took a deep breath in and let go of Angela, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

'I suppose, as a potential father, he has a right to know.' Brennan mused, her rational thinking returning now that the hormone rush had evaporated and the tears had dried on her cheeks. Angela nodded and stroked Brennan's shoulders, her hands moving up to brush the hair out of her face and tease out a few tangles.

'Sweetie, how far along are you?' Brennan paused, her heart going into palpitations as she performed a few calculations in her head.

'About three months. Oh god Ange I never meant for this to happen. I should have taken the emergency contraceptive. I'm so stupid!' Angela hugged Brennan and whispered gently into her ear.

'You didn't know this was going to happen. It's not your fault, okay?' Brennan nodded.

'Ange... I need to go and think. Thank you for being here. I appreciate it.' Angela smiled at her best friend.

'You're welcome, any time Sweetie.'

**oOo**

Brennan paused on the threshold of the office, her mouth dry and her heart racing. The small plaque on the door read: L Sweets, Psychiatrist.  
She placed her hand flat on the door handle and pushed down before she could talk herself out of it, the sweat on her palms making the smooth brushed steel door handle slick under them. She pushed down and against, the door opening smoothly and revealing the young psychiatrist sat at his desk, his head down as he read a file and signed something. She cleared her throat and he looked up, a look of surprise flitting across his face.

'Doctor Brennan... I wasn't expecting you.' She smiled weakly, her eyes brimming as she closed the door and leant against it, using the thick wooden door to support her weight. Sweets rushed forwards with a tissue and touched her arm gently.

'Doctor Brennan, what's wrong?' She pushed her hair out of her face and wiped the tears away with the tissue he had supplied.

'Sweets, I came here for advice. Not for some psychological input as to how my mind works or how revolutionising my way of thinking could change my life. I just need a bit of friendly advice.' Sweets looked confused.

'Wouldn't you normally go to Booth for this kind of thing?' Brennan felt her eyes well up and Sweets looked askance at her.

'I'm guessing this has something to do with Agent Booth.' She nodded, her hands trembling.

'That night I got raped, when we came to you for advice, when I needed help...' Sweets waited patiently. 'I'm pregnant.' He stepped back in shock, his eyes wide.

'So why did you come here, Doctor Brennan?'

'I need some advice. The thing is, this baby could be Agent Booth's. I don't know what to do.' She sat down on the sofa, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead on them.

'Are you saying you and Agent Booth had sex before you got raped?' Brennan nodded.

'I was so paranoid about getting pregnant that I took a test a few days after and convinced myself successfully that it was a false positive. Turns out it wasn't.' Sweets came and sat next to her, on edge and uncertain what to do.

'You have to tell him, Doctor Brennan, no matter what the consequences are.' Brennan nodded slowly and wiped her eyes with her hands.

'That's what Angela said and I am inclined to believe her.' She felt suddenly angry at herself and shook her head savagely. 'Why do I keep crying? It's pathetic!' Sweets soothed her with a couple of quiet scientific words.

'You have a hormonal imbalance; it's causing you to be tearful. It's a natural part to the pregnancy process.' She sighed and sat normally, placing her hands flat on her stomach and stroking the slight curve where her baby was growing steadily.

'What if it isn't Booth's... What if it's his...' she whispered, almost to herself. 'I'll be carrying a monster.' Sweets touched her hand and she looked up, her eyes see with fear.

'Brennan, it doesn't matter who the father is; it's the way you raise this child that will determine what it's like in the future. The parentage doesn't matter. You're the prime example of this. Your whole family are criminals and then there's you, a forensic anthropologist who is fighting crime and saving lives. The parentage doesn't matter.' She shivered.

'I need to know. Before I tell Booth, before I take any action, I have to know.' Sweets paused, a frown furrowing his usually smooth brow.  
'To perform an in womb DNA test is dangerous for both the mother and the foetus. It can cause a spontaneous miscarriage and cause severe mental and physical trauma to the mother and foetus. It can even result in birth defects.' Brennan paused and looked at him, crossing her hands protectively over her stomach.

'I... I believe I am too attached to this baby to risk that happening to it. I... I think I love it a lot. Despite the parentage.' Sweets touched her arm gently and she started. 'I believe Booth needs to know. I think he needs to know that I may be carrying his child.' Her eyes were glassy with tears.

'It's your choice, Brennan.' She sighed, a low brittle sound that resonated around in the space.

'It's not rational to be scared. I shouldn't be scared.' Sweets leaned back in his chair and observed her as she struggled with her emotions that were threatening to drown her.

'What is rational and what isn't doesn't affect how we feel.' He told her sombrely. She nodded, her entire body quaking.

'Thank you, Sweets.' Calm now, Brennan stood and gently smoothed her shirt, incredibly conscious of the slight bump on her usually toned abdomen. He smiled and waved a hand.

'My pleasure. Good luck.' She nodded and then turned to the door, placing a hand on the door handle, her fingers curling over the brushed chrome once more.

**oOo**

Booth flipped open his phone to hear slight breathing, that almost seemed panicky and worried, tense.

'Booth.' He quickly answered, before the increased breathing began to freak him out too much.

'It's Brennan.' He heard his partner's voice on the other end of the phone and relaxed.

'You sound panicked.' He stated simply, injecting tenderness into his voice and relaxing almost subconsciously.

'I...' On the other end of the phone, Brennan twisted her hands and ran them through her hair in quick and panicked movements. There was a heavy silence on the other end as Booth waited for what she was going to say.  
'Booth I really need to talk to you.' She finished lamely, running her hands through her hair in a stressed fashion, her fingers twining in the stray strands. He replied evenly, not showing the worry in his voice, or making his voice tremble at all.

'What's wrong, Tempe?' There are some phrases people don't want to hear, and 'I need to talk to you' is one of them.

'I can't say... I can't. Booth I... I just need to talk to you.' She was nearly crying in apprehension and worry, her hands working against her temples in an effort to stop herself from losing her resolve and becoming a pathetic excuse for a human being. Booth felt his palms sweat but still managed to keep his voice steady.

'Okay, Bren I'll be there in ten minutes, as soon as I can. I... I wonder if it's bad.' Brennan didn't answer and he felt the panic rising like a bubble in his chest, threatening to burst and leave him with a sickly sensation of falling.

'I...' Brennan put the phone down and sat down on her sofa, the sick feeling rising in her chest and threatening to engulf her. She sat still, the panicky feeling that had risen now roaring in her ears and setting her pulse racing. The sick feeling that had started in her chest had continued to rise and was now in her stomach, so bad that she felt sweat break out on her forehead and bile rise in her throat. There was a tentative tap on the door and Brennan opened it, a sick feeling rising deep in her chest. Booth opened it; his face creased in deep folds of worry and as he went to wrap and hold her in his arms she jerked away, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks.

'Bones, what's wrong?' She shook her head; dislodging more tears and making him step forward, gripping her forearms in his strong hands. 'Tempe? Tempe, talk to me.' The compassion in his voice made her weak at the knees and suddenly she couldn't hold back anything she wanted to.

'I… Seeley…' He kissed her forehead, her eyes, her lips and her cheeks, holding her arms tightly and not letting go.

'Temperance, whatever's happened can't be that bad. It's okay, just calm down.'

'Seeley… you don't know… you don't know…' He gently touched her waist.

'I won't if you don't tell me.' She leaned forwards and kissed him gently.

'Please forgive me. Please.' She whispered with an edge of her voice breaking as she stepped backwards in a bid to escape his hands. He looked at her, his deep brown eyes pulling at her, begging her to tell her what was going on. He saw the tiniest flicker of doubt in her eyes, the slight roll of her shoulders as she straightened her back, and he knew it was bad.

'Bones, just be quiet a moment, just stop thinking. I love you, okay? Whatever it is, I'll be fine. Just tell me, Tempe.'

'Booth, I made a stupid mistake and I am so sorry, just a stupid mistake that landed me here, in this mess. I… I should have… I…' She had the words formed, in perfect scientific accuracy in her mind, but her tongue faltered and she couldn't get them out. Booth stood awkwardly, his mind racing ahead and his face reflecting the web of confusion he was trying to untangle in his thoughts.

'Tempe, baby, talk to me.' Brennan's eyes were filled up again and she dipped her head down, wiping them on her sleeve.

'Booth, I never took the emergency contraceptive. I never had the time. I never had the chance… And now… now…' Her mouth shut again and this time when she dropped her head, she didn't look back up.

'You're pregnant aren't you.' His voice was cold, yet not angry, simply factual and straight. It wasn't a question.

'Yes. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' He stepped forward and held her tightly, gently rubbing her arms as she was racked with sobs, her whole body shaking and heaving.

'It's okay, I got you, I got you baby.' Then a thought struck him, and it seemed to have come from her as she froze a moment before he did.

'Seeley, I don't know whose baby it is.' Her voice was muffled, hardly able to be heard above even his slight breath. Booth held her tightly against him, reassuring her with quiet muffled words into her hair.

'Bones it's okay. It doesn't matter.' Booth was concerned when she jumped backwards, colour rising in her cheeks and her eyes wide.

'Booth you don't get it! It does! It matters! Because otherwise… if it's not yours… this baby will be a monster. I'll be giving birth to a monster!' Tears were streaming in torrents down her face and her chest was heaving, a red flush racing over her cheeks and down her neck. Booth stepped forwards and grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly and not letting go until she calmed down, reaching forwards and holding onto him, clinging to his arms in a vice grip that he couldn't dislodge.

'No you won't. Because it doesn't matter to me. Whoever this baby's father is, I'll bring it up as mine, and it won't be a monster. Not with us as parents. I'm here with you, Bren, I love you.' She held on to him as though the world was tearing them apart and the spies were collapsing around them, tears flooding both of their eyes and rolling down their cheeks. They kissed one another, tears mingling and Booth running a hand over Brennan's stomach gently, hand splayed over the gentle curve.

'I love you.' She whispered breathlessly, her voice no longer trembling as Booth held her tightly in his arms.

**Urmm yeah, that's kinda it, unless you want another chapter. Let me know (:**


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